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WOODCOCK SHOOTING 



Woodcock and Young 



WOODCOCK SHOOTING 



/ 



BY 



EDMUND W. DAYIS 



PRINTED FOR PRIVATE DISTRIBUTION 

1908 






l.'i; i.-lfiV af CSNGHESS' 

May J8 1908 

Class /A \ac. mo. 

COHV A. 



Copji-ight, 1908, by 
Edmund W. Davis 



TO MY SON 

WITH PLEASANT RECOLLECTIONS OP THE DAYS 
WE HAVE PASSED TOGETHER 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

The Birds 3 

The Dogs 44 

The Gun 59 

Shooting the Birds 64 

Togs and Covers 74 

The Midday Meal 84 

The Homeward Drive 89 

The English Bird 96 

Serving the Bird 100 

My Autumn Shooting of 1905 104 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 



Woodcock and Young 


Frontispiece 


Where He Is Not Forgotten . . . Facing Page 6 


A Woodcock's Home ' 


10 


On the Western Prairie ' 


12 


The Glistening Birches 


14 


A Good Stand 


22 


Ladysmith * 


24 


A Good Feeding Place * 


" 28 


Finding the Birds ' 


34 


The Hen and Cock 


" 38 


Ten Fine Birds 


46 


Black Cockie 


48 


My Two Companions * 


" 50 


The First Retrieve * 


52 


Stopping Too Late * 


54 


The Few Moments' Rest 


56 


An Old Comrade * 


58 


The Favorite Guns ' 


" 62 


Where Quick Shooting Is Necessary . ' 


64 


His Pleasure ' 


' " 66 


A Moment of Delight 


70 


A Narragansett Cover ' 


74 


Ready for the Sport * 


78 


The Fifty-Nine-and-a-Half-Inch Head 


" 80 



The Garden of Eden Facing P( 

The Midday Meal 

The Impatient Trap 

A Five Days' Shoot 

The Turkey Cover 

The Blue Beltons 

Chris and Ted 

Le Loup Blanc 

Dan 

Dan Pointing 

A Cherished Hill 

St. John in the Distance 

Trailing the Birds 

The Forest Road 

Homeward Bound 

Calvert Lake Cover 



ge 84 

86 

90 

98 

102 

104 

106 
108 
110 
112 
114 
116 
118 
120 
122 



WOODCOCK SHOOTING 




WOODCOCK SHOOTING 



THE BIRDS 

ONCE asked a salmon angler to tell 
me his feelings when he realized that 
he was on his way to Canada to fish a 
r^^^^ famous river in ♦the great wilderness 
of the North. He turned and looked at me; the 
sweetest smile appeared on his usually sad 
face, and his soul seemed to reflect the 
purest thoughts. Life in the forest brought 
him into closer communion with Nature, 
and inspired all that is noble in the man. 
If an angler is incapable of appreciating the 
beauty of his surroundings, and goes forth only 
for the sake of destruction, he Imows not the pleas- 
ure of the art. Such depth of feeling I always ex- 
perience in salmon fishing, and it is quite as great 
when I start on my annual trip to New Brunswick 
to seek the sport with that game little bird, the 
woodcock. For does he not denote all that is beau- 
3 



tiful?— the coming of spring, when all the world 
is bright and gay, and all the woods are green; 
when hill and dale are vying with each other to 
summon forth the breezes and the blossoming buds 
which are to dispel the cold winds of the North. 

The small birds rejoice in the green leaves' returning; 
The murmuring streamlet winds clear thro' the vale; 
The hawthorn trees blow in the dews of the morning, 
And wild, scattered cowslips bedeck the green dale. 

And does not the woodcock 's arrival tell us that 
the silent brooks held in winter's embrace during 
the long frozen months are now free, and like the 
Hotun-nor are already dancing merrily through 
the woods on their way to the sweet-scented mea- 
dows where rippling with laughter they behold 
again the bright sunshine of spring! His coming 
is welcomed by the disciples of Walton also; for 
now they know that the alders along the banks of 
these struggling waters, slowly calmed by the daz- 
zling sun, will soon array themselves in their sum- 
mer gowns of green, giving protection and shade 
to the coveted prizes lurking in the secluded pools. 

But should you lure 
From his dark haunt, Heneath the tangled roots 
Of pendant trees, the monarch of the brook, 
Behooves you then to play your finest art. 

4 



So does the coming of the woodcock bring joy to 
the lovers of forest and cover and stream. 

How few people there are who, when driving 
about the country at twilight in the early spring, 
know the meaning of the sweet sound which greets 
them from the sky ! A peculiar note, most dear to 
the sportsman ; it is the love-song of the cock as he 
rises on high to sing to his cherished mate, who sits 
below content, and listens to the ardent pleadings 
of her lord. Suddenly his lordship swoops down- 
ward to bestow a caress upon her, and rising 
quickly, poises himself in the air to continue his 
sweet melodies. 

As darkness covers the land he becomes weary, 
and ceasing his protestations of love, drops from 
his aerial perch to nestle near his comfortable 
home by the alders. There he relates to the ex- 
pectant mother the hardships of his journey 
South. One morning, 'way down in North Caro- 
lina, feeling weary, he had delayed too long for 
breakfast. As he was quietly dozing on a hillside, 
he suddenly awakened and saw standing over him, 
perfectly rigid, a large black and white setter, with 
distended nostrils and wild eyes bursting forth 
from their sockets. What it was he knew not, but 
springing from the ground and darting quickly 
through the branches, he had nearly topped the 
trees when there was a loud report, and a stinging 
5 



pain. Down he fell, striking against a bough, and 
dangling there for a moment, finally struck upon 
the dry brush on the ground. No sooner had he 
collected himself, when, lo! the black and white 
monster appeared again, running here and there 
in a state of frenzy; now with head up, sniffing 
the air; a wild charge across the path; then 
back again to gaze at last on the bird lying help- 
less on the brush pile. A tremendous bound, and 
he was almost seized. Making a mighty effort, he 
rose slowly into the breeze, and darting upward, 
sailed away farther South, fortunate in escaping 
such a terrible country. 

Such are the tales he tells to his companion, as 
she listens excitedly at his side. What pleasure to 
be back again by the swift-running brook and find 
he is not forgotten ! 

The birds pair during the early spring. The 
days go by, adventurous and joyous, with singing 
and merrymaking, until one fine morning his lord- 
ship awakens and four mites stand waiting with 
upturned heads. The hen usually lays four eggs, 
buff-colored and pear-shaped, with light brown 
spots. Her nest is a small bunch of dry leaves 
which she has scraped together. Although not a 
pretentious affair, it seems to be all that she finds 
necessary. Incubation lasts about three weeks. 

The four little bunches of feathers, moist from 
6 



the shell, are soon quite dry. The youngsters 
readily adapt themselves to their surroundings, 
and are able to toddle about and take care of them- 
selves. About this time the lord and master be- 
comes a bit indifferent to the welfare of his family, 
and instead of remaining at home, relating his 
deeds of adventure, as once pleased him, you will 
find him off alone, moody and thoughtful, resting 
on some knoll away from his brood. No more 
dancing and listening now to tlie serenade in the 
moonlight. Care and responsibility have taken 
their place. The mother must be continually on 
the alert lest some harm befall the little family. 
First they must be taught to find their food by 
turning over the leaves and seizing the small in- 
sects lying beneath, and also by sticking their bills 
into the cool, moist earth, and pulling forth their 
cherished morsel, the angleworm. 

By summer-time they are well versed in the art 
of woodcraft. They like to feed along the brooks 
under the alders, or in some newly ploughed corn- 
field; and you will find indications of their pres- 
ence in their numerous borings. It is in these 
places that the sportsman during the summer usu- 
ally seeks his game. 

Then the young birds must be told how to be ex- 
pert in detecting danger; and when alarmed 
crouch motionless upon the ground, trusting in the 
7 



similarity of color to escape observation until 
borne to a place of safety, where the mother often 
carries them. When she is pursued, they watch 
with admiration the craftiness of their par- 
ent. Fluttering about as though wounded, she 
gradually leads the sportsman a merry dance 
until he is a safe distance away; then, as she 
is about to be seized, she springs into the air, and 
twisting among the trees, disappears in the dis- 
tance, leaving him in astonished silence. Eeturn- 
ing by a circuitous route, she carries her dears to 
some secluded spot, and happiness reigns again 
for a time in the family. 

Woodcock usually make their nests at some dis- 
tance from the feeding-grounds. At twilight they 
take their brood to these cool and hidden retreats ; 
here the young birds observe the labor of their 
parents and are taught to procure for themselves 
a dainty morsel. Many wriggling worms are 
laid before their astonished eyes as they toddle 
about in the moonlight. Thus they pass the night 
until early dawn, when the mother conveys them 
back to the nest in the woods; and there, during 
the daytime, the youngsters can often be seen doz- 
ing amid the leaves. 

An English sportsman relates that "he once 
came upon a female woodcock watering her three 
young ones at a rivulet. She picked up one in each 
8 



claw and flew off with them. He concealed himself 
in a thicket and waited to see if tlie mother would 
come back. Presently she returned, and picked up 
the remaining bird also. ' ' 

The mother will carry her young not only to and 
from the feeding ground, but will often bear them 
away from danger. I have never been fortunate 
enough to see the hen in this labor of affection. 
I have seen her flop about on the ground as 
though wounded, and try to lure me away from the 
young birds, as ruffed grouse will often do. 
Whether she carries them between her feet or upon 
her back I am unable to say. There is some dis- 
cussion among sportsmen concerning her method, 
but I think that the feet are the most natural 
means of conveyance. 

In summer when a cock is disturbed in his 
meditations, he flushes with a start, and circling, is 
almost sure to wend his way to his mate, seeking 
protection at her feet. He is not always welcome 
at this time, for anticipating danger and fearing 
pursuit, and not wishing to leave the helpless 
young to take care of themselves, the mother often 
hesitates too long, and in her attempted flight 
falls, pierced by the cruel shot. 

O ye, who never taste the joys 
Of friendship, satisfied with noise, 

9 



Fandango, ball and rout, 

Blush, when I tell you how a bird 
A prison with a friend preferred 

To liberty without! 

Lifting her tenderly, one gazes into her large, 
troubled eyes, which seem to say: ''What possible 
pleasure can it give you to kill me 1 Do you think 
that because I am only a bird, life is not dear? 
Will not the little family miss me ? What will be- 
come of them I Every morning they come to me 
for a trip to the brook, and in the heat of the day 
we rest beneath the alders, telling tales of the 
future. Then in the shades of the evening we fly 
about the swamps, dancing and playing in the 
bright moonlight. Across the meadows, now top- 
ping the trees, up and down the swale we go, 
happy because the woods are our home and we 
love the silence of the night. Instead of killing us, 
would it not be better to cultivate our acquain- 
tance; to learn something about our life? We 
could give you merry times and teach you much, 
and in the end you would derive more pleasure and 
feel happier because you had helped to save the 
woodcock. Do you not know that if we are pursued 
so relentlessly in summer, soon there will be no 
more love-songs; the alders along the bank will 
become desolate ; the old apple tree at the foot of 
the orchard will be deserted, and the whistling of 
10 



the birds as they drop in at twilight to feed among 
the cattle lying in the pasture will be no more? 
The whole country would feel sad at the passing of 
the woodcock. But if you will promise not to dis- 
turb my fledglings in the summer, when they are 
weak and can hardly fly, and wait until the cold, 
crisp mornings of autumn, then they will accept 
the battle for life." 

I used to think shooting sharptail grouse in 
Northern Montana the height of all sport, and va- 
rious kind of wild fowl in Southern California 
gave me great pleasure. One winter I pursued 
the fascinating jack-snipe in the Bayou-Teche 
County, Louisiana, and it was there, I am told, that 
Mr. J. J. Pringle, many years ago, made the re- 
markable score of three hundred and sixty-six 
snipe in one day. I can readily believe the report ; 
for in that country, on less favorable ground, I 
bagged before sunset one hundred and ten of these 
birds. Middle Florida used to be a grand place for 
feathers, and three winters I shot that country as 
far as Mosquito Inlet. The climate, however, was 
not favorable, so. I wandered to the border of 
Northern Kansas, and for seven years during the 
months of November and December I roved in this 
land of sunshine. One of my pleasantest recollec- 
tions are those bright, cool days, with Bob White 
on the Western Prairie. 

11 



Big game shooting has had its attraction, and 
the autumn and winter months have often found 
me following this interesting sport. I remember 
stalking a crafty old moose one December day 
through a forest in Nova Scotia. It had led us a 
long chase, about nine miles from the cabin, and 
the sun had nearly gone down before I obtained 
the spreading antlers. We were obliged to return 
over a rough bit of ground. As six inches of 
snow had fallen during the day, the walking was 
most difficult ; so it was quite ten o 'clock before we 
saw the lights of home sparkling through the dark, 
snow-laden firs. How welcome they were! The 
sound of our tread had been anxiously awaited, 
for presently a door opened and the glare of burn- 
ing logs penetrated the gloom and guided us to a 
hidden path up the knoll. Brushing the snow from 
our jackets, we entered the log house, and were 
soon resting upon fresh cedar boughs. Happy 
days were they and it is a joy to look back upon 
years so pleasantly passed. I have shot game in 
nearly all of the states, but the month of October 
spent among woodcock in the Province of New 
Brunswick is, in my opinion, the most pleasing 
sport. 

Why does this sad, melancholy-looking bird pos- 
sess such an attraction for the sportsman? Not 
being very plentiful, the woodcock is the more 
eagerly sought for, and perhaps the real pleas- 
12 



On the Western Prairie 



f^^ 




r^?>i 



-"^^irfi-li^' '" -. i '-Ar 



ure is the anticipation of success in destroying that 
which is rare and difficult to obtain. But I believe 
the true lover of Nature prefers to kill this bird 
because he loves to wander about the delightful 
places where it is most likely to lead him. Some- 
times it is in the alder swamp along the brook; 
sometimes up among the birches on the hillside, or 
in the pasture by the big woods; and he enters 
every conceivable corner hoping to find some sign 
of the cock whose life he seeks. Not only are 
sportsmen charmed by these interesting birds, but 
all novices in the art of the chase are keen to hear 
a tale of woodcock shooting, when a good kill of 
grouse or quail fails to give any pleasure. 

The birds breed as far East as Nova Scotia, 
their northern limit being about as far as Mon- 
treal. I believe some parts of Ontario used to af- 
ford good shooting. The New England, Eastern, 
and some of the Middle States formerly produced 
these birds in abundance. In Northern Florida 
you will find a few flying about in the winter twi- 
light. 

A friend of mine once shot two woodcock in Jan- 
uary near Enterprise. These were the only ones 
he had ever seen so far South, and he had shot in 
Middle Florida many winters. The Western coun- 
try does not seem to please their fancy ; I suppose 
owing to their inability to obtain food in that region. 

Woodcock are too delicate to withstand the 
13 



hardships and endure the cold winter of our 
northern climate, besides there are no soft spots to 
probe with tender bills, so about the full moon in 
October they begin to prepare for their long jour- 
ney southward. Then the best of shooting may be 
had, for the birds make frequent stops during their 
flight, resting peacefully in the daytime among the 
alders or upon some sunny slope lined with glisten- 
ing birches. They are often found among young 
oaks, and in almost every corner where suitable 
food can be obtained. While they are reposing in 
these secluded spots, the killing is at its height. 
Although the finest sport in most of the states is 
during the October moon, I have had better success 
along the coast of Rhode Island in November. 
This is owing, I believe, to the coming of the Nova 
Scotia birds, whose migration is later, and along 
the seashore. New Brunswick furnishes some 
birds until November, while Nova Scotia can boast 
of woodcock well into the month. About this time 
a light mantle of snow has slightly paled the 
bright crimson of the leaves and the dark green of 
the firs, causing destruction to the homes of the 
birds, and their sudden departure. 

In their migration they are supposed to rise to a 

great height. It is not known why, but perhaps 

they find the upper air currents more favorable for 

their journey. They certainly cannot seek those 

14 



The Glistening Birches 



4^ 







altitudes for the purpose of observation, for their 
flight commences about twilight and is finished by 
early dawn. Besides, after dark and misty nights 
I have frequently found the birds more numerous. 
Woodcock have been known to arrive in the day- 
time in some parts of England. These birds, no 
doubt, come from Norway, and in crossing the 
water of the North Sea are probably blown out of 
their course, and forced either to perish or con- 
tinue their flight to a place of refuge. This can- 
not very well happen in the States, as the migra- 
tion is inland. The Nova Scotia birds are also 
fortunate, for they have only the Bay of Fundy 
to cross— about fifty miles of water; then their 
flight is along the coast, so they escape the dan- 
gers of the sea. In extended flights the speed of 
the woodcock is something marvelous. It is thought 
to be at times from one hundred and fifty to two 
hundred miles an hour. As their migration takes 
place at night, we can only judge their speed by 
comparing it with that of some bird which mi- 
grates in the daytime and whose speed is known ; 
such as the crow, for instance, whose limit is about 
ninety miles an hour. If a crow can fly at this rate, 
what must the swift woodcock accomplish when, 
in advance of a furious gale, it is striving to reach 
some safe shelter hundreds of miles away? 
One afternoon, in New Brunswick, toward the 
15 



end of October, I was having good sport with the 
cock, when suddenly a storm burst upon me, put- 
ting an end to all my pleasure. By the next morn- 
ing four inches of snow had fallen throughout the 
Province, and even in Maine a white mantle cov- 
ered the land. There was no shelter for the birds 
except beyond the storm ; so it can readily be seen 
with what velocity they must have flown to have 
reached a safe refuge before daylight. 

The ' ' Virginian plover, " Mn its migration from 
Labrador to Brazil, has an unbroken sea flight of 
about three thousand miles ; and we may imagine 
with what swiftness it must fly to cross in a short 
time such an expanse of water. The curlew, snipe, 
duck, the canvasback especially, drop with a tre- 
mendous speed when descending from high alti- 
tudes; and there are many birds which develop 
great velocity when swooping downward from the 
sky. But the woodcock shows, at times, such pace 
that it is thought to surpass in swiftness all other 
birds. 

Woodcock will often in the night, fly against tele- 
graph wires and injure themselves severely. Along 
railways dead birds are frequently found. Bright 
lights seem to attract them, and when migrating 
many succumb to the brilliant glare of lighthouses. 

Although the disappearance of the woodcock is a 

1 Fur, Fin, and Feather Series. 

16 



source of sorrow, their absence is made less 
painful by the presence of the cheerful junco, 
whose twitterings, resounding through the woods, 
brighten the picture, and give a bit of sunshine to 
him who loves the fields in all their whiteness. The 
snowbird always brings to my memory these pleas- 
ant verses: 

When snow-like silence visible 
Hath hushed the Summer bird, 
Thy voice, a never-frozen rill 
Of melody, is heard. 

But when from Winter's lethargy 
The buds begin to grow, 
Thy voice is mute, and suddenly 
Thon vanishest like snow. 

I am not familiar with Southern shooting, as I 
have never followed the birds southward. After 
their long flight they should be left undisturbed to 
recuperate for their early return to the North. 
Hunting with the torch used to be practised con- 
stantly in the South, and in this manner thousands 
of birds were killed and shipped to market. It was 
a quick way of extermination, for it required only 
a light stick to knock them down as they flew 
toward the flame. I am glad to say that this prac- 
tice has been prohibited by law. Summer shooting 
in the North is almost as great an evil, but most of 
17 



the states are seeing the wisdom of protecting the 
bird during the summer months, and are now en- 
acting laws for its preservation. The birds come 
North about the last of March, but there are in- 
stances of much earlier arrivals. 

Oh, every year hath its Winter, 
And every year hath its rain- 
But a day is always coming 
When the birds go North again. 

When new leaves swell in the forest, 
And grass springs green on the plain, 
And the alder's veins turn crimson— 
And the birds go North again. 

Oh, every heart hath its sorrow. 
And every heart hath its pain — 
But a day is always coming 
When the birds go North again. 

'T is the sweetest thing to remember 
If courage be on the wane. 
When the cold, dark days are over — 
Why, the birds go North again. 

A peculiar feature of their flight is that they 
seem to arrive all over the country about the same 
time. Even New Brunswick and Nova Scotia have 
the birds the same time we see them in the New 
England States ; so I infer that the eastern wood- 
18 



cock begin their flight a little earlier than those 
bound for the more southerly states. 

The early arrivals obtain their food by turning 
over the moist leaves and seizing the larvjB and 
worms beneath ; but as soon as the frost disappears 
from the ground, they are off to the haunts of the 
highly prized angleworm, as it comes toward the 
surface seeking the warmth of spring. Most of 
their feeding is supposed to be done at night. Not 
all of it. I have killed woodcock in the daytime 
with worms hanging from their bills; and once I 
gazed on a cock while he was probing for a light 
breakfast, but that is the only instance I have ever 
seen them so occupied during the day. A friend 
of mine living in the country told me that at 
twilight two woodcock used to come regularly to 
feed upon his lawn, although his house was a long 
distance from any cover. Suddenly they ceased 
their visits, and he asked me for an explanation. 
He had already given one without knowing it. He 
had casually mentioned that his gardener usually 
watered the lawn just before sundown, and for a 
number of evenings he had done so; but after a 
few days he seemed to tire of his duty, and betook 
himself elsewhere. As soon as he left, the birds 
stopped coming. Woodcock are well aware that 
watering the ground causes angleworms to come 
to the surface. As these birds were dwelling some- 
19 



where in the neighborhood, they scented the at- 
tractions of this retreat, and feasted to their 
hearts' content. They have a wonderful faculty 
for discovering freshly watered lawns and gar- 
dens. I have known instances where woodcock 
have been flushed on the gardens of rather a large 
village. 

It is very interesting to go to some meadow 
about twilight and watch the birds coming from 
the covers on their way to the feeding-ground. 
Many a night I have seen them dart from 
the thickets and with their delightful whistling 
speed past like the wind ; then circling, drop upon 
the burnt ground beside me, where I, motionless, 
gazed upon their graceful bodies in the moonlit 
field. Any freshly-burned land is a great treat for 
them. It seems to have an immense attraction, 
and they will fly long distances to find it. 

Walton says in ' ' The Complete Angler ' ' that if, 
in a dry time, you squeeze some walnut-tree leaves 
into water, then pour the mixture upon the ground, 
worms will presently appear. He also says salt 
and water will have the same effect. I have never 
tried the experiment, but have often wondered 
whether some chemical action does not take place 
on the burnt land which produces a deposit simi- 
lar in taste to the infusion of walnut leaves, and 
20 



whether it may be this that the birds and worms 
are seeking in order to keep their digestive or- 
gans in good condition. Mountain sheep, goat 
and all deer will travel miles to obtain a bit of 
salt at some lick they have discovered in the re- 
cesses of the mountain; and if the deer family 
require a relish for their health, why should it 
not be equally necessary for the feathered tribe? 
I believe it is on this account that the birds love 
the burnt lands rather than for the desire of feed- 
ing. 

The whistling sound we hear when the cock^ are 
flushed, and when they fly about at night seeking 
the feeding-ground, is no doubt caused by the pe- 
culiar formation of the wings and the great rapid- 
ity of their motion. The wings are rather short 
and stiff, and when moved rapidly the passage of 
air through the primaries no doubt produces the 
whistling sound. Mr. Frank M. Chapman, in his 
interesting book on bird life, tells us that ''cer- 
tain wing-feathers of the woodcock are singularly 
modified as musical instruments. Sometimes the 
outer primaries are so narrowed that little but 
the shaft is left, when the rapid strokes are ac- 
companied by a whistling sound. In other cases, 

1 Among sportsmen, the term "cock" is often used to denote 
woodcock of either sex ; and also either as a singular or plural form. 

21 



the shaft of the wing-feathers may be much en- 
larged and horny, when the bird makes a sin- 
gularly snapping sound in flight." In the day- 
time the whistling is heard only for a brief space, 
because when the cock is flushed he usually does 
not fly far, and as soon as the wings move less 
rapidly the sound ceases. At night the whistling 
is heard much longer because the birds make a 
more extended flight. I have never heard the 
sound when the bird is making a zigzag course. 
This can be accounted for by his lessened speed 
and by a different motion of the wings. Some 
sportsmen contend that the sound is produced by 
the bill. This is quite improbable. I have held 
cock by the bill, and then as they flapped their 
wings violently I have heard the same whistling, 
which shows that the wings rather than the bill 
are the cause of the delightful music. But the love- 
song the male bird sings to his mate is believed to 
be entirely vocal. 

Many woodcock are killed at night. This is done 
by taking a stand on some road or meadow across 
which the birds must fly on their way to feed, and 
if you are fortunate in selecting the right place, 
for a few moments at twilight you are quite sure 
of a fair bag. If you know the feeding-ground, a 
larger score can be made in a very short time. As 
22 



this kind of shooting is most destructive, I would 
advise against its practice. 

Two years ago while cock-shooting in Canada, 
a friend asked me to go with him one night to a 
cover he had named ' ' Ladysmith, ' ' and have a try 
at the birds as they came in to feed. We arrived 
on the ground at the proper time : 

In the air of the evening, humid and soft, 

Was the keen odor of the ploughed fields, and 

We went out together upon the hillside. 

While the cricket shrilled there below in the meadows. 

We had hardly stationed ourselves at a fallen 
tree when a dark streak arose from the thicket 
close beside us, and darting through the moonlight 
disappeared whistling its joyful ziraleet among the 
birches. 

' ' That bird was evidently too fast for you, ' ' re- 
marked my friend. "Shoot a little quicker." 

' ' Yes, he was a bit rapid, ' ' I replied. ' ' He must 
have been one of the scouts sent out from the fort 
to investigate the advance. But how difficult to see 
them at this time of night ! I do not think I care 
for this kind of shooting. It is like killing a sal- 
mon in the dark. ' ' 

''Don't mention salmon-fishing just now," ex- 
claimed my friend, as he too fired at a bird's 
23 



shadow topping the alders at his left. ''It is the 
grandest sport, and my mind always wanders to 
that bright, crisp morning in June when I landed 
through your kindness a forty-five and a forty- 
three-pound fish. I shall never forget it. ' ' 

Long time he, following cautious, scans the fly. 
And oft attempts to seize it ; but as oft 
The dimpled water speaks his jealous fear. 
At last, while haply o'er the shaded sun 
Passes a cloud, he, desperate, takes the death 
With sullen plunge. At once he darts along. 
Deep-struck, and runs out all the lengthened line; 
Then seeks the farthest shore, the " sheltering " rock, 
The shaded bank, his old secure abode. 
And springs aloft, and flounces round the pool, 
Indignant of the guile. With yielding hand 
That feels him still, yet to his furious course 
Gives way, you, now retiring, following now 
Across the stream, exhaust his idle rage ; 
Till, floating broad upon his breathless side. 
And to his fate abandoned, to the shore 
You gayly drag your unresisting prize. 

' ' Many a night I have sat by my hearth dream- 
ing of that one day of my life on the Cascapedia— 
Did I not tell you 1 We have now lost the best of 
the shooting, and all through my romancing about 
salmon-fishing, when we should have been paying 
attention to the dusky little shadows which have 
been darting around us for the past twenty min- 
utes. ' ' 

24 



''Never mind, Joe; let us leave them until the 
morning. Although we have been repulsed in our 
attack upon Lady smith by night, we may hope for 
better luck on the morrow. ' ' 

' ' I don 't know about that. You see, these birds 
are like the Canadians and the British. When 
they take a stand they are hard to dislodge. Day 
after day I have been trying to bring destruction 
to their stronghold, but as often as I return, their 
ranks are well recruited, hence my christening 
'Ladysmith.' It is one of the best covers I know 
in this section of the country. But the moon is get- 
ting high ; the birds have ceased flying, and there 
is Butler calling from the trap, so let us hasten, for 
we have some distance to go before reaching the 
cabin. ' ' 

I have read that woodcock will use every 
strategy to induce angleworms to come to the 
surface ; that they will often tap upon the ground 
with their bill in order to produce an effect similar 
to raindrops. Then the worms, believing a light 
shower to be falling, come to the surface to quench 
their parched throats, and are eagerly devoured. 
This tale may be exaggerated, but the birds 
have great intelligence. I believe them equal to 
almost anything. They are ' ' capable de tout, ' ' as 
Voltaire said of the prophet Habakkuk. 

One October evening about twilight I strolled 
25 



from my cabin down to an old stone bridge which 
spanned a small brook running at the foot of a 
hill. 

Not a breath crept through the rosy air, 

And yet the forest leaves seemed stirred with prayer. 

It was a fine feeding place to watch, I often 
went there to see the birds as they came in. While 
on the bridge, meditating, and blowing puffs of to- 
bacco into the cool, crisp air, I wondered if my 
friends at home in all their gaiety were as much at 
peace with the world as I, with my gun and the 
birds and Nature, alone in the wilderness. As I 
mused, a bunch of dark feathers shot out of the 
clouds and, swooping downward, brushed past me, 
alighting not ten feet in front of where I was sit- 
ting. Now was the longed-for chance to watch the 
bird in his evening's pleasure. As soon as he 
alighted he seemed most anxious to assure himself 
that no danger lurked in the air. Being satisfied 
about his safety, he began to prepare for his even- 
ing meal. He turned his head from one side to the 
other; then slowly straightening, tapped the 
ground with his bill in three different places until 
at last he seemed to find a choice spot. With a 
slight flutter of the wings, he lowered his head, 
sending the long bill deeper and deeper into the 
moist earth, until I presume the sensitive point 
26 



touched the wriggling creature which good Wal- 
ton prized so highly in his musings by the primrose 
bank. 

In genial Spring, beneath the quivering shade, 
Where cooling vapors breathe along the mead, 
The patient fisher takes his silent stand, 
Intent, his angle trembling in his hand ; 
With looks unmoved, he hopes the scaly breed, 
And eyes the dancing cork and bending reed. 

By this time it had become so dark I was un- 
able to see whether the woodcock had labored in 
vain. It was a bit disappointing, for I had hoped 
to see the finish of his evening's task. Not wish- 
ing to disturb the bird, I withdrew quietly from 
the bridge and returned to the cabin, where a small 
table set with snowy linen and delicate china 
awaited me before the burning logs. 

The "spruce-scented" smoke so gracefully curled 
Above the ' ' green firs ' ' from my cabin so dear ; 

And I thought, If there 's peace to be found in the world, 
A heart that was humble might hope for it here. 

I distinctly saw this bird touch the ground with 
his bill in three different places before he attemp- 
ted to probe. It is likely that others have seen 
the same thing happen, hence the tradition of 
' '■ tapping for worms ' ' may have originated. I do 
27 



not believe Pan so favors the woodcock as to let 
him pull forth a worm at every boring. Probably 
he is obliged to do more than that for his daily 
bread. This is indicated by the numerous works 
one sees about the fields and streams. He may 
probe in a place six or seven inches in diameter, 
yet obtain only one or two worms. Even then I 
should consider him fortunate, for in my boyhood 
days, when digging bait for trout-fishing, the most 
promising places seldom furnished more. 

The birds are regular little gourmands, and 
their ravenous appetite is owing, no doubt, to 
rapid digestion. They love to feed near water, 
for they are fastidious, I am told, concerning their 
slender bills, frequently dipping them into pools 
to remove the clinging mud. Of the many cock I 
have shot, I have noticed only a few whose bills 
were untidy. The rest were clean and smooth, 
showing that woodcock may not neglect the morn- 
ing's dip. 

Until the end of October, in the states, the early 
morning is the best time of day for hunting wood- 
cock. 

Sweet is the breath of morn ; her rising sweet 
With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the sun, 
When first on this delightful land he spreads 
His Orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit and flower, 
Glistening with dew. 

Then they are usually near the edge of the thick- 
28 



A Good Feeding Place 



ets, and are also found just outside. Later in the 
season, when it gets colder, it is unnecessary to ar- 
rive on the ground so early, for the birds seem 
loath to leave the warmth of the sun and do not 
enter the cover quite so soon. 

It is always best to take an hour for the midday 
meal. Besides refreshing one for the afternoon, it 
gives the dog the much-needed rest, and this will 
add many a cock to the score. 

In New Brunswick I am seldom in the covers 
before nine o'clock; but that country is the land 
of the woodcock, and well has he chosen. There, 
from his home among the silvery birches on 
some sunny slope, he gazes on the dark green 
forest, where roams the lordly moose along the 
banks of the glistening St. John as it flows toward 
the sea. There also comes the hunted caribou to 
quench his thirst with the cooling waters. And 
when the light of the October moon rises above the 
green firs in the distance and casts its beams 
across the silent fields, the trembling deer steal 
forth, adding beauty to the enchanted spot. All 
this can the cock behold, as, seeking his evening 
meal, he casts a light shadow about the hills while 
his whistling wings send forth the song to Night : 



When I arise and see the day I sigh for thee ; 
When the light rises high and the dew is gone, 
And noon lies heavy on flower and tree, 



29 



And weary Day turns to his rest, 
Lingering like an unloved guest, 

I sigh for thee ! 

Yes, the noble bird dwells in a paradise. 

I have used the terms probing and boring to des- 
cribe the action of the birds when they stick their 
bills into the ground in search of worms. In the 
parlance of shooting they are synonymous. While 
the word boring is perhaps more frequently used, 
probing seems the correct expression; for the 
birds certainly do not bore, but rather force their 
bills into the earth. 

Woodcock may have an acute sense of hearing, 
but I doubt if they are able to detect any sounds 
made by worms beneath the surface. Instinct tells 
them where the worms are abundant, and the up- 
per mandible of their long bill is so sensitive that 
when in the ground the delicate nerves can easily 
locate the tempting morsel even though the bill it- 
self may not be quite in contact with the prey. Mr. 
Gordon Trumbull tells us that ' ' the bird can use as 
a finger the upper mandible of its sensitive bill. ' ' 
This flexibility must assist the bird greatly in 
procuring food ; for the upper mandible, being able 
to twist in either direction, and being longer 
than the lower and a trifle bent at the point, the 
bird can seize and pull up a worm more easily than 
if both mandibles were stiff and of the same length. 
30 



When the bill enters the ground the upper mandi- 
ble, being longer and larger at the point, prepares 
a way for the lower ; and as soon as the under sur- 
face of the tip of the upper mandible touches a 
worm, "a downward thrust," as Mr. Trumbull 
says, '4s only needed to push it between both man- 
dibles, when it is easily drawn forth. ' ' The bird 
when feeding upon the surface could pick up its 
food easier if both mandibles were the same 
length. Nature, however, has wisely adapted the 
bill; for the bird's principal diet is below the 
ground. 

I have seen a wounded woodcock steady himself 
with his bill as he endeavored to walk toward a 
cover ; and once I saw a cock use his bill to assist 
himself in rising. When I observed him, he was 
squatting upon the ground, his bill poked out in 
front and resting upon some leaves. My dog was 
pointing beside me, and as I gave the command to 
charge, the bird became a bit restless. Presently 
he began to rise, and bracing his bill against the 
ground supported himself until he had assumed 
an erect position. Even then he seemed loath to 
lift this useful member. This bird must have lived 
a luxurious life and was probably in prime condi- 
tion ; but there was no way of gratifying my curi- 
osity, for I was so intent watching him that when 
he flushed I missed. 

31 



Besides assisting in procuring food, this long 
bill, no doubt, is a help in many ways. 

When seeking woodcock, always look in wet 
places on the sunny side of the hill, for it is there 
they love to bask in the rays of the sun. Some- 
times you will find them where it is very dry, but 
they usually prefer to rest near springs and 
upon moist land. If the day be windy, they are 
most likely to be found in some sheltered spot 
protected from the chilly blasts, even if the sun's 
rays fail to penetrate the foliage. They dislike to 
feel the breeze, and will start wildly, thirty or forty 
yards ahead of the dog, making the shooting very 
difficult. It is quite the reverse if the day be mild, 
for then the birds always lie close and when flushed 
will fly only a short distance. A day of this kind is 
ever desired by the lover of the sport. 

You will often see numerous markings among 
the alders and birches, indicating the presence of 
many birds ; but this does not always bring good 
shooting, for the birds may have left the previous 
night on their journey South, and disappointment 
is the sportsman's lot. 

In a woodcock country the birds are usually 
found in covers where cattle feed. They have a 
fondness for ground cut by the animals' hoofs, 
and will often remain until very cold weather 
in this kind of cover. They seem to know 
32 



tliat cattle are their friends, and are frequently 
seen feeding among them. 

Even in cold weather woodcock are often found 
under the alders, sitting on little hillocks sur- 
rounded by water ; but I have always noticed that 
a bit of sunlight streams in, giving warmth to the 
places which they had chosen for the few days' 
rest. It is not pleasant to work these covers. The 
alders are usually low and thick, making it very 
difficult to see the birds when they rise. After they 
are driven out they usually fly to the big woods; 
but there they seem to be wild, and will flush be- 
fore the dog can scent them, so very few are killed. 

One day in New Brunswick from a similar cover 
I flushed nine woodcock and killed only two birds. 
The others flew to the woods and were lost. The 
next day I shot two more on this ground. About 
a week later I returned to the same cover, expect- 
ing to have good sport, but unfortunately all the 
birds were gone. This frequently happens, for 
they are continually changing their covers, espe- 
cially if it is about the time the birds are making 
ready for the flight South. 

During dry seasons the forest ant-hills are fav- 
orite hunting places of the cock. They delight to 
poke their bills into these mounds of industry in 
search of the insects, and at twilight much destruc- 
tion takes place in their homes. 
33 



It is most singular how reluctant woodcock are 
at times to leave some favorite place. I remember 
starting three birds from a few alders situated on 
a knoll sloping toward a small brook. For three 
days I visited this cover and always found the 
same number— no more, no less. The first day I 
killed two ; the second, one ; and on the third day, 
three. Returning one night from a day 's shooting, 
a friend who was with me said as we were passing 
the cover: "I wonder if there are three more 
cock nestling at the edge of the alders ! ' ' We were 
both a bit tired, but our curiosity being aroused, 
out we jumped and tenderly lifting the eager Bob, 
carefully approached the dark thicket that stood so 
silent in the twilight. 

' ' Look ! ' ' exclaimed my friend. ' ' Bob has again 
found the birds, for there he stands as steady as 
yonder rock." 

A few steps forward, and out went three small 
shadows, separating in the distance to meet again, 
no doubt, and relate to astonished friends their 
miraculous escape; for I missed them with both 
barrels. 

The partridge loves the fruitful fells ; 

The plover loves the mountains ; 
The woodcock loves the lonely dells; 

The soaring hern the fountains ; 
Through lofty groves the cushat roves, 

34 



Finding the Birds 



The path of man to shun it ; 
The hazel bush o 'erhangs the thrush : 
The spreading thorn the linnet. 



A woodcock, when he is first flushed, usually flies 
only a short distance; but if you watch his flight 
and mark where he went down, you will be sure to 
find him close to the place where he seemed to 
alight. The second time he is started he makes a 
more extended flight ; but the third time, one has to 
seek far and wide before being rewarded for his 
trouble. The bird will often, after being flushed, 
circle and go back to the very place from which he 
first arose; and it is owing to this trick that the 
sportsman is often led astray. 

I do not think full-grown woodcock are very 
much frightened when first flushed, for when they 
alight they do not seem at all anxious to conceal 
their location. If they were much alarmed, would 
they not, like the quail, hold their scent and con- 
ceal themselves in the depth of some swamp? No ; 
the woodcock is a game bird. He is not afraid. 
Instead of contracting into a little bunch and nest- 
ling close to the ground, he prefers the chase, and 
delights to lead the sportsman a merry dance 
about the covers, until at last, wearying of the 
sport, away he flies to some distant thicket, safe in 
his retreat. It is quite different with the quail. 
35 



When they are flushed they become very much 
frightened, and as soon as they alight they con- 
tract their bodies and close their feathers, hoping 
by this means to prevent the least bit of odor from 
escaping. When they think all danger has passed, 
and that they are quite safe from any harm, they 
again relax their feathers. This permits the odor 
to permeate the air, bringing delight to the anx- 
ious setter and death to the incautious bird. I 
have seen a quail alight in an open field not sev- 
enty yards from where I was standing, and my dog 
unable to scent the bird, although it was not more 
than four feet from his nose. Thinking the dog 
might be a bit off, or that perhaps the bird had run 
away, I went to a fence not far distant to rest. In 
about fifteen minutes I commenced to imitate the 
call of the mother. Presently I was rewarded, for 
the young bird answered ; so returning to the spot, 
the dog readily scented the quail. This shows the 
power they have in controlling the odor which ex- 
udes from their body. 

There are two feathers on the woodcock which 
are often used by artists. They are delicately 
pointed, and are situated one on either side of the 
outer primaries, and known as the painter's feath- 
ers. The English snipe also have the same kind 
of feathers. These birds are, I believe, the only 
ones which can boast of such distinction. 
36 



I have read that woodcock are adepts in the art 
of surgery, and the Rev. William J. Long, in a very 
interesting article on the subject, says that he once 
saw a woodcock covering its leg with a mixture of 
fiber and moist clay, the preparation being applied 
and smoothed most carefully with the bill. At last, 
seeming satisfied with its work, the cock rose and 
flew into a thicket. It was presumed that the leg 
was broken, and the mixture had been used as a 
substitute for a splint. Mr. Long also says that a 
friend of his shot a woodcock with one of its legs 
partly encased in clay. On removing this, it was a 
great surprise to find that there had been a frac- 
ture; but the bones had knitted, and the leg was 
nearly well. 

Mr. L. H. De Visme Shaw, in his ' ' Natural His- 
tory of the Woodcock," refers to an article by 
Professor Victor Fatio, who says that a woodcock 
^'when wounded makes for himself with the end of 
his beak and feathers a very ingenious dressing, 
and knows how to apply a plaster to a bleeding 
wound, or to fix a solid ligature around a broken 
limb. Twice he found woodcock which had liga- 
tures of feathers tied and twisted around the 
part where the bone had been fractured. The 
most curious case was that of a woodcock which 
had both its legs fractured by a shot, and which 
was only picked up the following day. The bird 
37 



had put feather plasters and bandages around 
both legs, using one bandage only for one leg. 
As it was unable to use its claws, it could not get 
rid of some feathers which had stuck and curled 
around the end of his bill and which were caus- 
ing it to die of hunger. ' ' ^ Although I have never 
had an experience of this kind, I have killed 
woodcock which were frightfully scarred and 
looked as though some agency other than Nature 's 
had been called upon to patch them up. I once 
shot a woodcock with a plaster of feathers on its 
breast. When I removed the plaster, I noticed 
that the wound was in splendid condition and heal- 
ing well. 

While examining a quail which I had shot in 
Northern Kansas, I discovered that one foot was 
missing. Instead of the leg bone protruding, as I 
expected, I found that the skin nearly covered the 
end of the injured member, and there was only a 
slight swelling. The bird was brought home, and 
again most carefully examined, but still I could 
not account for the neat mending of the injury. I 
did not then think that "Bob Wliite" could assist 
Nature in the art of healing; but since reading 
Professor Fatio's and Dr. Long's experiences, and 
other tales of surgery, I am convinced that our 
knowledge of the bird world is very limited, and 

1 Mr. Shaw states that the above quotation is an extract from the 
report of a lecture delivered by Professor Fatio before the Geneva 
Physiological and Natural History Society on April 19, 1888. 

38 



The Hen and Cock 



eventually some of the thousands of varieties 
which are known to science will convince us of 
their ability to alleviate their sufferings. 

August is the moulting season, and woodcock 
begin to lose their feathers. During this time lit- 
tle is known of their habits. They disappear from 
their accustomed haunts and are difficult to locate. 
During the month I have occasionally seen a few 
in the cornfields, where they no doubt came to feed. 
In September the birds reappear from their seclu- 
sion and are again seen flying about the fields, but 
they are thinly clad and not fit for sport. It is not 
till October that they appear in any numbers, and 
even then their raiment is not complete ; but about 
the middle of the month they are in prime condi- 
tion and capable of taxing the skill of the best 
shots. They vary in size and weight, especially 
the hens, which often top the scale at ten and 
eleven ounces. Sex is indicated by their size, the 
cock being a smaller and lighter bird than the hen ; 
but he is a pompous creature. He rises quickly, 
and when flushed is more difficult as a mark. 

The pathetic eyes of this bird appeal to me most 
strongly. These large round orbs, set well back 
in the head and beautiful as those of Ali, look into 
one's very soul. They seem to express confidence 
rather than fear, and when a bird is held captive, 
resignation is depicted in his sad countenance. I 
suppose Nature has so placed their eyes as to ena- 
39 



ble the birds when feeding to detect danger in the 
rear. Their position is not only a means of pro- 
tection, but is of great service ; for when obstinate 
dainties refuse to come forth, the eyes can guide 
the bill to extra depths without becoming filled 
with mud or water. But, the two large orbs peep - 
ing out from the leaves often betray the bird's 
presence. 

Of the great number of enemies with which 
young woodcock have to contend, one of the most 
destructive is the household cat. You can often 
see it sneaking about the alders, ever ready to 
spring upon its prey. Not woodcock only, but 
many young quail and grouse are victims of the 
artful Thomas. 

I wondered how the birds managed their 
long, thin bills when resting on the ground, until 
one day I discovered His Majesty reposing in 
the sunlight under some birches. He was about 
ten feet in front of my dog and seemed utterly 
oblivious to his surroundings. Both eyes were 
open, however, and his bill resting upon some 
leaves, was pointed directly in front. So I pre- 
sume this is his natural position when taking a 
siesta. 

Woodcock, jack-snipe and quail will often lie 
so close that one can approach almost near enough 
to touch them. This, I suppose, is owing to their 
40 



knowledge that the color of their plumage harmo- 
nizes with that of their surroundings and enables 
them to escape detection. A friend tells me that 
he has stroked the hen bird when it was on its nest, 
and instead of being frightened it seemed to enjoy 
the sensation. I have picked up a woodcock and 
also a quail when they were squatting on the 
ground, but I have never been able to get near 
enough to touch the foxy snipe. The woodcock did 
not appear to be in the least alarmed ; he, on the 
contrary, seemed rather indifferent to the situa- 
tion. But the quail was greatly excited and tried 
to bury itself beneath the leaves. It was so fright- 
ened that it dared not attempt to fly. 

I do not believe that woodcock depend entirely 
upon coloration for safety from man. It is simply 
their wits which keep a good many out of trouble. 
Sometimes when a bird is flushed it will top the 
alders and alight not twenty feet away in the open 
field, remaining just long enough to be seen dart- 
ing around the end of the cover as you break 
through the brush into the opening. This is very 
disappointing, but it shows him capable of tricks ; 
and these and many others will he teach you when 
you follow him about his haunts. 

They east us off, as a huntsman his pack, 
For they know when they please they can 
whistle us back, 

41 



Coloration no doubt helps greatly to keep them 
safe from attacks by birds and animals of prey, 
but from the designs of man their wits are often 
their salvation. When accompanied by a dog I 
find the birds are less desirous of making my ac- 
quaintance; yet even then I can sometimes ap- 
proach almost near enough to touch them, pro- 
vided they have not been previously flushed. 

From my experience with woodcock I find that 
they dislike, more than any other game bird, to be 
disturbed during the daytime. For at night they 
love to revel in gaiety, and many are the stately 
functions these birds must attend— some banquet 
held in the emerald-dotted meadow surrounded by 
the dark alders, which stand as sentinels guarding 
the happy assemblage. It is here they love to 
frolic and dance to the music of brooks whose 
crystal waters sparkle like gems as they flow in 
the moonlight. 

Sounds of distant mirth are borne by the breeze 
to this merry party; for others who receive less 
homage love to roam the wood while clad in its 
somber hues. The piping of the frogs in their pla- 
cid home expresses joy at the coming of the night, 
and even the nocturnal hexapods are heard chant- 
ing the vespers. The weird cry of the night-owl also 
breaks the stillness as he bewails his displeasure 
in not being commanded to the royal feast. 
42 



And the owl hath a bride who is fond and bold, 

And loveth the wood's deep gloom; 
And with eyes like the shine of the moonstone cold, 

She awaiteth her ghastly groom. 
Not a feather she moves ; not a carol she sings, 

As she waits in her tree so still ; 
But when her heart heareth his flapping wings, 

She hoots out her welcome shrill. 

These and other sounds of delight and fear are 
wafted to the tired little bodies who at last, weary- 
ing of the dance, seek the repast served throughout 
the field. No decorations add beauty to the scene, 
for night has veiled the bright faces of the flowers 
and they stand with drooping heads. Is it any 
wonder that after these nightly festivities wood- 
cock decline to be disturbed, and prefer to slumber 
during the day ? 

A woodcock may be kept in confinement, and 
he quickly becomes attached to those who attend 
him. An abundance of worms is necessary for his 
diet, otherwise he will soon pine away. The worms 
should be placed in a large bowl of earth, five or 
six inches deep, so the bird can have its customary 
boring. Given plenty of water, he will soon be- 
come reconciled to a life behind the bars. The, 
woodcock loves warmth, and delights to bask be- 
fore the fire or in the heat of the sun, giving no 
little pleasure to him who has shown affection. 



43 



THE DOGS 



He was a gash an' faithful tyke 
As ever lap a sheugh or dyke. 
His honest sonsie, baws'nt face 
Aye gat him friends in ilka place. 
His breast was white ; his touzie back 
Weel clad wi ' coat o ' glossy black ; 
His gaucie tail wi ' upward curl 
Hung owre his hurdles wi' a swirl. 

'0 be successful in woodcock shooting, 
you must be accompanied by a dog es- 
pecially broken for hunting the birds. 
Either a setter or pointer is generally 
employed ; but there are some lovers of the sport 
who are still inclined to the old method and prefer 
the cocker spaniel. When the cocker is used, the 
sportsman usually remains on the outside of the 
cover, allowing the dog to go in and drive the birds 
out, trusting that when they are flushed they will 
fly toward him. They will not always do this, and 
as they are just as likely to fly in some other direc- 
tion, many birds escape. A well-trained cocker, 
44 




though, should send most of the birds toward his 
master. Without regard to the size of the bag, I 
do not think hunting over a cocker so satisfactory 
as with the setter or pointer ; for being outside the 
thickets, it is almost impossible to see the dog 
working up to the birds, and this in my opinion is 
the most interesting part of the sport. 

An old cock-shooter some years ago asked me to 
have a day with him on his favorite ground in New 
Brunswick. He assured me grand sport, and was 
most anxious that I should see the wonderful work- 
ing qualities of his black cocker. I readily accep- 
ted the invitation, and suggested that I should like 
to bring my setter Kate— as fine a little lady as 
ever entered the alders, and as sweet in disposi- 
tion as the fair girl for whom she was named. The 
suggestion was well received, so at daylight on 
the following morning we jumped into my friend 's 
shooting trap and whirled eight miles over a good 
road to Loch Lomond. An hour's pleasant drive 
through the bracing air, and we pull up at a 
tumbledown fence enclosing a good bit of cover. 
Leaving the servant with instructions to meet us 
on the other side, we wander across the field and 
hold a council of war at the edge of the thicket. As 
this was not particularly good ground, and my 
friend not having much faith in Kate 's abilities, it 
was decided that she and I should enter the cover 
45 



while my friend was to remain outside and have 
the ''kill" as he expressed it, as the birds bid us 
adieu on their way out. 

Looking at Kate, as she turned her large, earn- 
est eyes toward me, I say to her: "Do you know 
what you must do now, my lady? Kemember the 
teaching of your ancestors. Be staunch, and, like 
your dear mother, let not one escape. Show the 
black cocker that none can equal you ; that you are 
queen of the sport. Now here we are, and be care- 
ful." She seemed to understand, for turning 
quickly away she flew. Hardly had we entered the 
cover when the quivering, silken body became as 
rigid as marble, like a beautiful statue standing 
before my eyes. Lady Kate has scented her game, 
and gazes, motionless, into space. "Glorious!" I 
exclaimed. "Never will the black cocker of Can- 
ada rival thy praises." It seemed cruel to spoil 
the picture by taking the life of the cock that 
was nestling so quietly in its fancied safety 
not ten feet away. But I was there to kill 
and not to romance; so taking a step for- 
ward I flushed the bird, at the same time shout- 
ing "Mark!" to my friend waiting outside. A 
flame spits forth from the sixteen bore, and 
a woodcock falls dead. "Bravo, Kate," I ex- 
claimed; "now bring it here." And away she 
goes, returning quickly to lay at my feet the ob- 
46 



Ten Fine Birds 



r'^. 




ject of our sport. And so we quartered through 
the cover, now and then crying "Mark!"^ 
and sending forth thin puffs of smoke into the 
clear, still atmosphere, until we have ten fine 
birds resting in safety. Once more we find our- 
selves out in the daylight, and my friend ap- 
proaching in the distance. "Do you know," he 
said, "I have not seen a cock since you went in, 
and I have been following you all around the 
cover. Where did they go I You shot eleven 
times." "Ask the little lady," I replied; "she 
will tell you. ' ' 

We had grand sport that bright, clear day, tum- 
bling over the beautiful birds in the covers near 
the lake. As the afternoon waned and the pink 
rays of the setting sun were reflected on Loch Lo- 
mond, warning us of the approaching night, I 
thought of those charming lines : 

Sweet day ! So cool ; so calm ; so bright ; 

The bridal of the earth and sky: 
The dew shall weep thy fall to-night, 

For thou must die. 

Poor black Cockie was in disgrace, for bird 
after bird had been flushed and lost. He 
tried hard to please and worked well; but Lady 
Kate was the winner, and by night the old gentle- 

1 An expression used by sportsmen when a bird is flushed. 

47 



man was singing songs of praise for the black and 
white maiden, and poor Cockie's heart was sad. 
My friend has since become a convert to my view, 
and each year during the October moon he may be 
seen accompanied by a faithful companion wend- 
ing his way to some cover where a few hours are 
pleasantly passed ; and a brace or two of cock are 
brought home to delight the soul of poor black 
Cockie and bring forth reminiscences of the happy 
days when he too could chase the whistling bird, 
and 

Sing of its whistle, a whistle of mirth ; 
Sing of its whistle, the pride of his birth. 

Lady Kate was both intelligent and affectionate, 
and well up in the art of seeking the birds. She 
was the first to enter the covers of New Brunswick 
and convince the natives of the superiority of the 
setter. For a long time she found favor in the 
eyes of all, and her name was a delight throughout 
that country. Many a noonday meal we have had 
together while resting from the sport on some 
sunny hillside far from the busy world. But time 
changes all things, and now the happy days are 
past; for Lady Kate has gone to her quiet home 
across the Great Divide. 

0, snatched away in beauty's bloom, 
On thee shall press no ponderous tomb, 

48 



Black Cookie 



But on thy turf shall roses rear 
Their leaves, the earliest of the year. 

May her body rest in peace ! 

One of the advantages of the setter is his long 
coat, which prevents briars from hurting him, and 
also protects him in cold weather. But his chief 
virtue is his way of "pointing" or "standing" a 
bird. As soon as he scents the game, if he is well 
broken, he will immediately slacken speed and 
with poised head gradually approach within ten 
to twenty feet of where it is lying. When he 
is confident that the bird is near, he stops, and full 
of excitement, stretches out his body with every 
muscle strained to its utmost and stands a picture 
before you. One sees him in all kinds of attitudes ; 
sometimes with a foot lifted; now kneeling, and 
often sitting on his haunches, but always rigid and 
unmovable. As soon as the sportsman walks 
ahead and flushes the bird, tension is over, and the 
dog assumes his normal condition. If the bird is 
killed, the setter should be told to retrieve it, 
which he does by carefully taking it in his mouth 
and bringing it to his master. He should never be 
allowed to rush for the bird as soon as it is shot at, 
or to retrieve until told to do so, because he is lia- 
ble to flush other birds. Frequently the dog is 
broken to flush the game. This is a bad way, for it 
is apt to make him wild and unsteady. 
49 



Woodcock, like grouse and quail, as already- 
said, exude a certain odor, and it is owing to this 
that the dogs are able to locate the birds. Some- 
times the scent will remain so long on the ground 
after the cock has flown that the setter, unless he 
has a particularly fine nose, will often mistake it 
for the bird and make a false point. This is con- 
sidered unpardonable ; but it very seldom happens 
with a dog of fine nose, unless he is a little ''off 
his feed. ' ' 

Always be kind and gentle to the dumb compan- 
ion, but be sure you make him understand you are 
his master. When he comes to you for a caress, 
stroke him quietly as you would the gentlest maid. 
Remember he cannot tell you his desires other 
than by the expression of his sad eyes, which are 
often 

Raised as a mute prayer to the starred heaven ; 
And I, who hear what he cannot say, love him 
Because he is silent. 

Sometimes when he fails in the field, think that 
he may be ailing, and instead of abusing him or 
losing your temper, go to some quiet brook and 
bathe his head and feet with the cooling water. 
Let him rest a few moments; show him that you 
understand his feelings. Then when he is well he 
will not forget the kindness. He will enter every 
50 



My Two Companions 



nook and corner in his endeavor to please. If it 
is necessary to give him punishment, be sure that 
the dog knows why he deserves it. Then the of- 
fence will not occur again. 

Never shoot at the dog for disobedience. It is 
most cruel, and seldom does any good. Should an 
accident happen, you will always regret it. A 
friend and I were shooting quail in Northern Kan- 
sas over a delightful setter named Bess. The dog 
had been working splendidly until a covey flushed 
wild under the very nose of our black lady. Away 
flew the birds, and away went Bess in her en- 
deavor to round up a few of the scattered birds for 
her master's pleasure. It was a great crime to 
break away at the rise, but onward she sped, obliv- 
ious to the entreaties of one who a few moments 
since commanded her easily. ''Come back," he 
shouted. Then, suddenly, a flash— and the deed is 
done ! For Bess, wheeling unexpectedly, received 
a small chilled shot in one of her eyes. With a 
howl of pain she rushed back to lick the hand of 
him who had maimed her. 

Sir, when I flew to seize the bird 

In spite of your command, 
A louder voice than yours I heard, 

And harder to withstand. 

You cried: "Forbear!" But in my breast 
A mightier cried : ' ' Proceed ! ' ' 
51 



'T was Nature, Sir, whose strong behest 
Impelled me to the deed. 

We carried Bess to a stream, and bathed her 
swollen face ; then lifting her quickly into the trap, 
we hurried the moaning setter back to the vil- 
lage, only to be told that there was no hope. 
The eye which used to look so lovingly into the 
master 's face was gone. Our shooting trip ended, 
and remorse followed my friend for many a day. 

I always have my dogs broken to the whistle ; it 
is the simpler and less tiresome way. Continual 
shouting is no small exertion, and one needs all his 
reserve force in a day's tramp. 

What are the most desirable colors for a hunt- 
ing dog! Black, white and tan I consider to be the 
best combination. It is easily seen in the thicket, 
and yet it is not too conspicuous. Lemon, liver 
and white— the blue Belton— any mixture will an- 
swer; but pure colors are not desirable. A black 
dog is hard to see. A pure white setter, although 
very beautiful, attracts too much attention, and, 
some contend, alarms the birds. 

I shall not attempt to describe the different 
breeds of the setter. Let the sportsman select a 
well-bred black, white and tan, and he will be con- 
tent. 

The dogs should be hunted without their collars, 
for treacherous snags and roots often cause much 
52 



discomfort to our companions when burdened with 
this sometimes necessary ornament. Once when 
my setter was retrieving from deep water, a snag 
caught in her collar, for a few moments I was 
somewhat alarmed at her dangerous position. I 
had considerable difficulty in extricating her. An- 
other time when she was hunting in a thick 
cover an annoying root which had poked itself 
through the ground grasped the unyielding 
leather around her throat and tumbled her over 
only too quickly, causing a severe sprain in one of 
her legs. My dogs' work has often been impeded 
by underbrush clinging to the straps around their 
necks. Besides being a source of danger, the dogs 
are more comfortable without collars, and now I 
always allow them to hunt with necks free. They 
are no doubt pleased at my thoughtfulness, for I 
notice that as soon as they are released from their 
burden, away they will scamper with heads erect, 
and sniif the air more eagerly for a scent of the 
dainty cock. If you are an advocate of the decor- 
ation, and have a speedy and wide ranger, i.e., a 
dog which hunts very fast, it is a good plan when 
in the brush to attach a small bell to his collar, for 
he will often be out of sight. Then if the sound of 
the bell ceases you will know that he is sure 
to be pointing game, when you can gradually 
work up to him. For my own shooting I pre- 
53 



fer a slow dog, because I love to see him hunt 
the birds before pointing. In an open country a 
speedy dog is the best, as it saves you a lot of 
tramping. 

Hunting with a brace of setters is the acme of 
sport; but the dogs have to be so thoroughly 
trained that one seldom attains the perfection of 
the art. Of course you can make a good bag with 
almost any two setters that will point the birds; 
but while one is crawling up to the cock you 
have just flushed from the path, the other may be 
roaming the woods, and you are in agony lest he 
should come bouncing along utterly indifferent to 
the crouching position of his mate who is moving 
so carefully forward. Just as you feel safe from 
intrusion he suddenly breaks through the brush as 
happy as a lark, and running past the place where 
the cock alighted, sends him darting across the 
opening into the big woods. The dog quickly 
stops and drops at the flush, but it is too late. 
Had he been better trained he would have stopped 
and remained motionless as soon as he saw the 
crouching attitude of his mate. This manoeu- 
ver is called backing. But unless two dogs under- 
stand each other, there is very little pleasure in 
this style of shooting. I have hunted with many a 
brace of setters, but in one instance only have I 
been satisfied with their work. You can have bet- 
54 



ter sport and kill more birds with one dog well 
up in the art than with any number of braces un- 
less they are exceptionally well broken. 

The pointer should not be used in a country 
where there are many briars. His coat is too thin, 
and it is cruel to make this faithful companion en- 
ter those piercing thickets, to come forth with 
blood dripping from his body. Although I love to 
see him work, he should be hunted only in a mod- 
erately warm and open country. As the pointer's 
method of hunting game birds is identical with the 
setter's, I will not attempt its description. 

When working a cover, be as quiet as you possi- 
bly can. Do not keep calling the dog when he is 
trying his utmost to find game. If an intelligent 
setter is continually interfered with, he will be- 
come nervous and not do well. You may think he 
is not working the best part of the cover, and call 
for him to go to the opposite side ; then not finding 
birds you make him try in another direction. And 
so you continue to worry him until he is utterly be- 
wildered, and in such a state of excitement that he 
does not know what to do. Finally his nose will 
get so hot that he cannot scent the game, and 
many a cock that might have been added to the 
score if the dog had been allowed his freedom will 
be flushed and lost. 

A setter with good bird knowledge understands 
55 



the warm comers the cock love to lie in; and as 
soon as he approaches the cover will generally 
lead you to the right places. If he fails to find 
birds, it is bad form to be angry and blame the 
dog. You should rather encourage him. Do not 
let him see that you are disappointed. Gro and 
rest beside some fallen tree. Talk to him about 
the woods and fields. Ask him if he can see the 
young oaks on yonder hill resplendent in their 
glorious tints of radiant crimson, and, still fur- 
ther away, the silver birches trembling at the de- 
struction which is soon to take place among their 
glistening leaves. Tell him also of 

The lofty woods, the forest wide and long, 

Adorned with leaves and branches, fresh and green, 
In whose cool bowers the birds with many a song 

Do welcome with their quire the Summer 's Queen ; 
The meadows fair, where Flora's gifts among 

Are intermixt, with verdant grass between. 
The silvery scaled fish that softly swim 

Within the sweet brook's crystal watery stream. 

Then let him know how thankful you are for all 
the beauties of nature, and that you have health 
and strength to be afield among the birds this 
bright October day. A short walk across the open, 
and by the time the next cover is entered, all dis- 
appointment is forgotten, and dog and man go 
on their way rejoicing. 

56 



The Few Moments' Rest 



In starting for the day's killing, if you are to 
drive to the cover do not let the dogs jump in and 
out of the trap, for they are liable to strain them- 
selves severely. You can easily lift them. It is 
only a little trouble, and they are sure to show 
their appreciation of your thoughtfulness by wag- 
ging the tail or with some other affectionate ges- 
ture. One of my best dogs hurt his leg so badly 
in jumping out of the trap that he was unable to 
work for several days. 

Put some hay in the trap for the dogs to lie on. It 
is comforting, and helps to keep them warm when 
coming home at night. A light blanket thrown 
over them if they are wet will stave off a cold, and 
keep that dreaded rheumatism at a distance. 

Try to have their dinner ready soon after they 
return, and let it be a banquet ; for who deserves 
a richer feast than your staunch companion of the 
field? They are very fastidious as regards the 
evening meal, and most particular that it should 
be served on time, so do not disappoint them. Let 
them eat, drink and be merry, for their life is 
short and the happy days but few. 

Some dogs when released from their kennels in 
the morning become so excited when they know 
they are going for a hunt that they always refuse 
early breakfast and prefer to go forth with empty 
stomach to the delight of the hillside. One of 
57 



my excitable maidens never deigns to notice the 
early meal, but as the day wears on and the pangs 
of hunger begin, I find her ever willing to devour 
the light repast served in the warmth of the sun 
as we rest beside some rushing brook, telling tales 
of the morning kill. It is always a pleasure to 
share with her as she sits beside me, gazing long- 
ingly into my face. 

Before the dogs go to their kennels, they should 
have their legs and feet bathed with a mixture of 
warm water and alcohol. This prevents soreness 
and stiffness in the joints. Examine their feet 
most carefully, as small burrs and briars some- 
times lodge between the toes, and these, if not dis- 
covered, may cause lameness. If you follow my 
advice and pay attention to the welfare of your 
hunting companion, you will be well repaid by the 
increased endeavors on his part to please. Then 
you will go joyfully afield together. 

A joy beyond the tongue's expressive power 

My heart in Autumn weather fills and thrills! 

And I would rather stalk the hills, 
Descending to my bower 

Nightly, by the sweet spirit of Peace attended, 

Than pine where life is splendid. 



58 



An Old Comrade 



THE GUN 




|N selecting a gun you should be most 
particular that it fits properly; i.e., 
the object aimed at should be in line 
of vision with the eye, the breech and 
the sight at muzzle without bending your head. 
To obtain this result, when, you raise the 
gun you must elevate the elbow; then when the 
stock rests against the shoulder the elbow will be 
parallel to or a few inches above it. The higher 
the elbow is elevated above the shoulder the bet- 
ter, for it brings the object in line of vision with- 
out the least bending of the head, and this is the 
correct and artistic way of holding a gun at the 
moment of pulling the trigger. A gun with a two 
and one half inch drop^ can be handled in this 
manner easily, but as soon as you use one with a 
greater drop, the graceful and easy position dis- 
appears, and awkwardness becomes apparent. 
The head will be bent to find the line of sight ; the 

1 The distance the end of the stock falls below the barrel. 

59 



arms will be pressed tightly against the side, and 
with reached back you will present a most uninter- 
esting figure to the game cock whose destruction 
you seek. Nearly all beginners in the art of shoot- 
ing select guns with low drops. The reason is they 
have never been taught to raise the elbow as they 
raise the gun; consequently when the gun is 
thrown to the shoulder, they depend upon finding 
the object aimed at by bending the head down 
upon the stock, when instead, it should be sighted 
with the head erect. With a gun of two and one 
half inch drop, or even less, if you remember what 
I have said, you will overcome all difficulties. 
Then you will soon find that, with body straight 
and head erect, you will have become both expert 
and graceful in handling the weapon we love so 
dearly. I do not intend my readers to think that if 
they have selected a gun with a very low drop it 
will prevent them from becoming good shots. They 
will undoubtedly be able to do good execution ; but 
it will be performed in an awkward way, and I 
doubt if they ever become expert in the art. I 
have never known a person to perfect himself in 
the art of shooting unless he held his gun as I have 
suggested. 

Some years ago I was asked to shoot quail with 
a sportsman noted for his remarkable ability in 
the field. On examining his gun I found a three 
60 



and a quarter inch drop. This delighted me, for 1 
felt sure I should not appear at a disadvantage. 
The first bird rose, and the expert, with bended 
head and twisted body, and right arm pressed 
tightly against his side, strove to take the life 
of a "Bob White" darting quickly away. At the 
end of the day the score was about even, thanks to 
my early tuition, and the advice of an old friend : 
"Remember the elbow." 

Of course you desire to shoot well the entire 
day, and as fatigue is detrimental to accuracy, 
much depends upon the weight of the gun. I used 
to think a seven and a quarter pound twelve bore 
the correct thing, and for years never varied, un- 
til I discovered a six pound sixteen killed just as 
well, adn was less fatiguing to the body. One 
hardly imagines that a gun weighing one and one 
quarter pounds less can make any material dif- 
ference in a day's tramp. I never thought it 
could, so I kept on with my beloved old twelve. 
Then through long association you may become 
attached with indescribable fondness to a certain 
gun. All the others may go, but to part with this 
worn and battered weapon which shows scars of 
days of long ago, each one of which brings pleas- 
ant recollections, would be like giving up a dear 
friend. So it was many years before I became 
a convert to the light weight, and now that an old 
61 



shot has shown me what good results he has ob- 
tained with a five pound twenty, I am quite sure 
that at the beginning of the season, I shall possess 
one ; although I doubt very much if I ever become 
accustomed to so light a weapon. 

There are twelve bore guns weighing not much 
over five pounds. I have never used them, and 
know nothing about their merit. My favorite gun 
for field work is a sixteen bore. It should weigh 
about six pounds, with barrels from twenty-seven 
and one half to twenty-eight inches in length ; the 
right a cylinder and the left a modified choke. 
Some persons prefer longer barrels, believing 
them to be steadier. The stock should be built with 
a very small pistol grip, and the drop not more 
than two and one half inches. The proper length 
of stock of course depends on the length of one's 
arms. A gun of these dimensions, if not loaded 
too heavily, is suitable for all field work. 

I have always used guns (the premier quality) 
made by Messrs. W. C. Scott & Son, London, Eng- 
land. They are well built, and seem most safe 
with the nitro powders. 

I remember when a boy with what pleasure I 
loved to roam the fields and woods with a nine 
pound ten bore, which someone sagely recom- 
mended as the best weight. But weight was noth- 
ing to me during those ardent days, and if I was 
62 



The Favorite Guns 



fortunate enough to return at night with a brace 
or two of snipe or quail and some lone grouse 
which had accidentally flown across my range, my 
joy knew no bounds. The same ten bore is still in 
my possession, and is dearly prized, for it reminds 
me of the happy days of my boyhood passed on 
New England shores. 



63 




SHOOTING THE BIRDS 

?HEN a woodcock rises, do not make 
the mistake of throwing the gun 
quickly to the shoulder and shooting 
simply in the direction of the flight. 
Raise the gun slowly, and try to get the bird 
in line of vision with the eye and muzzle of 
the gun the instant it touches the shoulder; then 
pull the trigger. It is owing to hasty shooting 
in the direction of the flight that so few sportsmen 
become good shots. The best way to become adept 
is to devote a few moments each day to raising the 
g-un to the shoulder, at the same time aiming at ob- 
jects about the room. You will soon find that the 
objects aimed at will be in line of vision with the 
eye the instant the gun touches the shoulder, and 
when this is accomplished you should practise on 
moving objects. Then you may go forth to kill. 

Quick shooting is necessary at times, especially 
in thick covers ; but even then do not shoot unless 
you feel you are aiming at the bird. A woodcock 
64 



Where Quick Shooting Is Necessary 



as he rises in very thick cover usually hesitates a 
second before deciding upon what course to take. 
Whether it is upward, straight-away, or quarter- 
ing to the right or left, he will poise. Then is the 
time to shoot, although he is at that instant often 
invisible. It sounds rather difficult, yet the feat 
is easily accomplished, and but little practice is 
necessary. Even where the cover is quite open, 
the birds will often poise an instant, thus affording 
most easy shots. In open country one should let 
them get farther away, otherwise the pellets will 
tear the flesh. But do not shoot when the birds 
are at long range; that is, fifty or sixty yards. 
The pellets scatter so that at such a distance one 
is more apt to wound than kill, and the birds will 
fly away and be lost. Instead of shooting, it is 
wiser to follow in the direction of their flight and 
try to flush them again. If you are not successful 
then, you will surely on the morrow find them 
back in the covers, when you may have another 
try. This is better than to make the birds linger 
in some hidden corner and die of their wounds. 

If you fail to kill, do not excuse yourself by tell- 
ing your friend that the bird dodged behind a tree, 
or twisted or dropped, just as you shot; for you 
will get no sympathy. Simply confess that it was 
poor work; then the disinterested countenance 
may change to one of slight compassion. 
65 



Sometimes the cover is so thick that one has a 
better chance to shoot kneeling. Then when the 
dog points the sportsman should kneel, and wad- 
dle along like a duck until the cock flushes. This 
requires quick shooting. If you take the line 
of flight, and do not wait too long, you are quite 
sure to catch him at the instant of hesitation. Do 
not shoot until you think you can kill. To say 
nothing of your own pleasure, continual missing 
is not at all interesting to the dog, and eventually 
spoils him for good work. 

When the dog points, do not try to see the cock 
on the ground. The sudden changing of the eyes 
from the ground to the line of flight as the bird 
rises is confusing, and is apt to make one shoot too 
soon. More woodcock are missed in this way than 
when the eyes are elevated. I have frequently lost 
birds by being too inquisitive; and even clever 
shots will often miss having watched too long the 
antics of some cock which suddenly sprang from 
beneath the alders. Although we may lose a few 
birds by observation, we are often well repaid, for 
sometimes they furnish most interesting scenes. 
Of the many curious incidents I remember, one 
that I saw in the Burbank cover was quite amus- 
ing. My setter Mollie was pointing in a very thick 
place, and it being my turn to shoot, I asked a 
friend who was with me to go in and flush the bird. 
66 



w 



As the cock failed to rise, my friend called, so I also 
entered the cover. There, about eight feet in front 
of the dog, I found a woodcock strutting around, 
defiance in every movement of his body, while my 
setter, resting on her haunches, viewed the situa- 
tion with amazement. The dark brown tail feath- 
ers of this indignant bird, tipped with snowy 
white, were raised and spread like a delicate fan ; 
the tips of his whistling wings trailed the ground ; 
every soft feather— a light armor for such a frail 
body— was puffed, and ready for combat. His 
proud head and ponderous bill were held aloft 
with pride, while the eyes, usually tender and sad, 
shone with a threatening glow. Instead of flush- 
ing at our presence, he seemed anxious for a fight. 
He would walk toward my dog as though trying 
to induce a combat. Failing in this, he hopped 
upon a log, and, with feathers still expanded, 
would strut most excitedly from one end of the log 
to the other. This exercise seemed to make him 
less defiant, for, jumping down on the other side, 
he started off, much to the discomfort of Mollie, 
who now began uneasily to follow the enemy. It 
was all very interesting, but I believe the cock 
had been playing a trick all this time, for no 
sooner had he reached a more favorable place of 
exit than his hostile attitude vanished, and before 
we realized what had happened our woodcock had 
67 



disappeared through the frosty air. Far away no 
doubt he was chuckling with delight at the trick he 
had played on us, the simpletons. 

Many sportsmen are in the habit of moving the 
gun with the bird, swinging the gun ahead at the 
instant of firing, judging what space to allow ac- 
cording to the distance of the bird. I do not con- 
sider this good form or conducive to good result, 
for it is liable to make one too dependent upon 
finding his bird after the gun is thrown to the 
shoulder, and this is not artistic work. Watch the 
bird carefully in its flight; then make use of the 
practice you have had at home, and by the time 
your gun touches the shoulder it will be in line 
with the desired object, and the correct position 
for killing. If you find you are moving with the 
bird, shoot; but under no condition swing ahead, 
for if you do the chances are when you shoot you 
will arrest the progress of the gun, and the charge 
of shot will pass behind the bird. 

In the ''Country Life Library of Sport" the Ed- 
itor says ' ' that he has had the good luck to see more 
than a little of Mr. Fryer's shooting, especially 
noticed in respect of his quickness, and can affirm 
this, that though he preaches and practises the 
doctrine of swinging the gun with the bird, this 
swing is made so much a part of the act of lifting 
the gun, and bringing it to the shoulder as to be 
68 



quite imperceptible. There is no aim at the bird, 
and then a swing in front of it : all is done in one 
motion, and though the rapidity with which Mr. 
Fryer gets his gun off is one of the most remarka- 
ble features of his shooting, it is all done without 
the least appearance of hurry. ' ' Perhaps the ques- 
tion, as Mr. Hutchinson says, "is as well summed 
up in the words of an old keeper, who has seen a 
deal of first-class shooting: 'It 's not so much a 
matter of aiming two yards, or ten yards, or five 
foot ahead of a bird, as it is of getting on terms 
with your bird. ' Getting on terms with the bird is 
a full realization of his pace, his direction, and his 
distance, even while you are in the act of bringing 
up the gun, and it needs not to say that with this 
getting on terms with the bird, and also with the 
swing advocated by Mr. Fryer, there is not a mo- 
ment's pause when the gun is brought home to the 
shoulder ; the trigger is pulled on the instant. ' ' 

One is often tempted to swing ahead, especially 
when the birds are crossing to the right or 
left, and I must confess I have been guilty 
of this fault, to my sorrow. But if you will 
only remember how seldom, in so doing, you 
have killed (and then more by accident than 
good judgment), I am quite sure the following 
rule will not be amiss. If you have to swing, 
swing with the bird, but do not arrest the 
69 



progress of the gun. I should advise the use of 
chilled shot No. 8; about three quarters of an 
ounce for a sixteen bore. There are not as many 
pellets as in a charge of No. 9, but they smash 
branches well, and in thick covers this is often nec- 
essary. Besides, one frequently has a chance at 
grouse, when No. 8 is better. Nos. 5, 6 and 7 are 
too large and only adapted for extremely long 
range, when one pellet might kill; but, as I have 
already said, woodcock shooting is not a long 
range sport. It is artistic work, and appropriate 
weapons only should be used. For summer shoot- 
ing No. 10 shot is the best size; but I hope my 
readers will refrain from pursuing the bird until 
sparkling frost whitens the ground. 

I have often been asked whether I shoot with 
both eyes open. While I incline to believe that one 
of my eyes is fast closed, I would be unwilling to 
confirm the assertion; for at the instant of firing 
I am bewildered with a mysterious delight and 
doubt if I am capable of diverting my thoughts 
sufficiently to tell what my eyes are doing. 

'T is I that mingle in one sweet measure 
The past, the present, and future of pleasure. 

The instant of firing always reminds me of the 
70 



supreme moment in salmon fishing, when the sal- 
mon has seized the fly and you have sent the hook 
home. 

But look ! 'er the fall see the angler stand, 

Swinging his rod with skilful hand. 

The fly at the end of his gossamer line 

Swims through the sun like a Summer moth, 

Till, dropt with a careful precision fine, 

It touches the pool beyond the froth. 

A-sudden, the silvery hawk of the stream 

Darts from his covert and seizes the gleam. 

Swift spins the reel, with easy slip 

The line pays out, and the rod, like a whip. 

Lithe and arrowy, tapering, slim. 

Is bent to a bow o'er the streamlet's brim. 

Till the salmon leaps up in the sun, and flings 

The spray from the flash of his finny wings ; 

Then falls on his side, and, drunken with fright. 

Is towed to the shore like a staggering barge ; 

Till beached at last on the pebbly marge. 

Where he dies with the hues of the morning light. 

Even this delight fails to thrill as does the pleas- 
ure of having tumbled over a fast-disappearing 
bird with a fine, clean shot. I should advise all 
beginners to practise shooting from either shoul- 
der. Then if an accident befall, they will not be 
debarred from the delights of the field. 

Be sure and remove the shells from your gun 
before getting into the trap on your way to the dif- 



71 



ferent covers, or when driving home. Be most 
careful when climbing fences. At the midday 
meal, and in any place where you do not intend to 
shoot, take out the shells. Many severe accidents 
have happened by neglecting these precau- 
tions. If you are shooting with a friend, al- 
ways walk abreast, and try to keep him in sight ; 
then accidents cannot happen. If more than one 
person accompanies you, keep together, and alter- 
nate shots. This is the only safe way. I once was 
so unfortunate as to shoot a friend of mine, and 
he still carries in his body a few pellets to remind 
me of the eventful day. Although the accident 
happened in very thick cover, it was owing en- 
tirely to my friend's disobedience of rules. 
Friends of mine have often sent their pellets fly- 
ing about my head, and quite too close for safety. 
Once, indeed, I was hit on the right side of the 
face with eight pellets, and one only a quarter of 
an inch from my eye. It was in open country, but 
my friend thought I was so far off that the shot 
could do no harm. The safest way is to keep to- 
gether; then there can be no chance of danger. 
And when in our declining years, too enfeebled to 
pursue the sport so dear to us, we are seated at 
the hearth reminiscencing on the past, there will 
be no regrets to mar those joyous days spent afield 
together. 

72 



When all the world is old, lad, 
And all the trees are brown. 
And all the sport is stale, lad. 
And all the wheels run down, 
Creep home and take your place there 
The spent and maimed among. 
God grant you find one face there 
You loved when all was young. 



73 




TOGS AND COVERS 

[HAT is the proper suit to wear? 
That depends upon the kind of cover 
one is to shoot. Along the shore of 
Narragansett Bay and in the dense 
thickets about Kingston Hill a suit of mail would 
not be amiss, for the large, green bull-briars are 
so thick that they twine themselves about you like 
the long, stinging feelers of the cuttlefish, and when 
you are once in their embrace they will fondle 
you well. Those dense jungles mean mischief to 
him who has the courage to enter them and do bat- 
tle, and unless you are properly clad you will come 
forth like the beggar, all tattered and torn. 

I find that the most suitable dress for this 
country is a pair of light tweed trousers or 
breeches, over which canvas overalls of medium 
weight should be worn. A canvas shooting jacket 
is quite necessary. It prevents the briars from 
penetrating your arms, which is most annoying. A 
pair of high-laced waterproof shoes are prefera- 
74 



ble to boots. Do not fail to cover your head with 
some smooth fabric unless you desire the playful 
twigs to make sport of your baldness. When thus 
arrayed, you may enter the dreaded land and call 
yourself a brave sportsman, for none but the 
brave are willing to hunt the cock in such a terri- 
ble country. I have often come out of those cov- 
ers with blood dripping from my face, knees 
bared, my legs dotted with small piercing briars 
and looking like a Virginia ham dressed with 
cloves for a royal feast. Still, with all these 
discomforts, I find great enjoyment, for usually 
I have outwitted the tricky bird which tried so 
hard to elude me. 1 remember chasing a wood- 
cock half a day in a cover of this kind before I shot 
it ; and I have often wandered for hours in and out 
of the dense thickets, happy in having brought 
to bag two or three of the longed-for birds. Of 
course you have to be very keen for this kind of 
sport to hunt such ground, especially since the 
cock are now so scarce; but a brace of these hard- 
earned birds shot in this difficult country gives me 
more pleasure than a good-sized bag of quail or 
grouse found on more favorable land. 

The Sherman cover, situated on the West side 

of Kingston Hill, used to be splendid ground. 

One October morning, with a friend, I shot sixteen 

cock in this cover. The following day we found 

75 



six more and two days later still five of the stately 
birds were brought to bag in this delightful spot. 
Since then I believe that the cover has been par- 
tially cut down. The Burbank Swamp, situated 
about a mile to the Eastward, could tell wondrous 
tales of the many birds which used to dwell on its 
hillside. The country around McSparran Hill, 
with its charming scenery, overlooking the blue 
waters of the bay, used to boast of fine covers and 
many cock. But summer shooting and other ene- 
mies have almost silenced the darkened alders 
sloping toward the sea, and now the whistling 
sound so often heard in the twilight about the hills 
has nearly ceased. 

Years ago I used to shoot this country, and un- 
til the last few seasons I have usually given it a 
trial. A friend always accompanied me, and often 
an extra gun would join us in the sport. Our best 
score for any one year was one hundred and five 
woodcock. The following season we shot sixty- 
eight, and another year thirty-five. Of course 
these bags do not seem to be remarkable; but 
when you consider the difficult country we were in, 
the scarcity of birds, and that every day other 
hunters were wandering through the very same 
covers, I think we did remarkably well. 

Often when going to different covers, a bevy 
of quail which a few moments before was ner- 
76 



vously feeding in the stubble, would rise and flash 
across the field to scatter in the dense thicket amid 
the woods ; much to my friend 's delight for he pre- 
ferred following Bob White to his lair rather than 
to scour the dreaded brush for a solitary bird. 
Occasionally a ruffed grouse suddenly sprang 
from some hidden recess and with its delightful 
whirr would dart like an arrow through the tree- 
tops to safety beyond. Sometimes the gentle 
bunny, smacking his lips in fancied safety over a 
delicate, juicy leaf, would show his heels as he 
raised his cotton-tail, endeavoring to escape into 
some favorite retreat. But the new gun speaks 
joyfully, and the harmless rabbit lies squirming 
and kicking in the last throes of death. 

Although I have been guilty of taking the life of 
a rabbit, I do not consider it much sport. The last 
one I shot I wounded so badly that I then declared 
I would never kill another. Wlien I went to pick 
him up he was still alive and struggling on the 
ground. A big hole had been made in his side ; two 
legs were broken, and the large eyes seemed to 
say : ' ' What have you done *? ' ' Although it seems 
cruel to kill these harmless animals, I must con- 
fess that my palate often craves their delicious 
saddle. Serve in a chafing-dish with a dressing of 
the softest brown to which should be added 
pure Oriental spices, a bit of lemon, a dash 
77 



of old Madeira, and you will have a morsel 
worthy of any Epicurean banquet. A few flowers, 
culled by loving hands, may decorate the table; 
and perchance a rare vintage of Eomanee Conti, 
mellow in rich red color, may give forth its am- 
brosial perfume. Should a fair and not unloving 
maiden deign to taste, then so much more pleas- 
ing will be the saddle of bunny. 

The shooting in Canada is easier and much less 
fatiguing, for in the Province your pathway is 
never barred by demons with prickly tongues. 
Your path is easy, and made cheerful by the 
rich, red fruit of the fields. There the pleasant 
breath of autumn greets you tenderly, and any 
medium weight woolens are appropriate wear; 
nor must you forget the smooth material for your 
cap. You will find the twigs just as annoying 
as they are in the States, and they will de- 
light quite as much to play pranks with your head- 
dress. 

Few people know what splendid cock-shooting 
can be had in Canada. I have shot in the Domin- 
ion for many years, and have always had good 
sport. Even as far as the interior of Nova Scotia 
there are birds. Now my shooting is so arranged 
that some of my covers will not be disturbed for 
two years. Alternating in this way preserves the 
game and gives grand sport. One day while I was 
wandering on the outskirts of the Garden of Eden 
78 



^^^^^^B''', 






^^KBsS^^^-^ ---"t-r ■ 


,i--r-^<^*** 






r^^<''-' < 








m 


^'•'■J^BB^^ 


i ^ 


>3@af 


9 


1 


^ 










!=-, 




BK^^f^ 


'mm 






m 


^R^jl^^ 






•^ 








■P55?^ 













(I have told of this cover in the "Midday Meal"), 
my setter Dick suddenly stopped and poking out 
his nose became rigid. Being in the open and 
the ground quite bare, I did not think he could 
possibly be pointing a woodcock. I tried to urge 
him forward, but all my efforts were in vain, so 
I concluded that some scent more important 
than that of a rabbit or a belated meadow-lark 
must have entered his delicate nostrils. After 
waiting a moment, I took a few steps in 
front of the dog, and seven woodcock arose. To 
see so many birds rise at once was quite unexpec- 
ted and somewhat confusing. Although a bit rat- 
tled, I managed to make a double; but my friend, 
like myself, not expecting any woodcock, was 
less fortunate. I have never heard of so many 
cock rising on one point. Two, and sometimes 
three, may flush ; but to have seven spring up is a 
most remarkable occurrence. Further on we 
flushed eight more birds among some birches. 
And so we continued wandering about the Garden 
the rest of the day, putting up the lords and ladies 
until ninety-five of the court had shown their dark 
brown feathers trimmed with royal ermine. By 
night forty of this gay party were resting peace- 
fully in the game-bag slung so proudly across the 
lad's shoulder who accompanied us with the shells 
and kettle. 

Another day in a cover not far distant from the 
79 



Garden, our two guns bagged twenty-six birds. 
We did not try to see how many cock we could kill, 
but at that time twenty birds a day on my ground 
was a fair average, which for my son, friend and 
self I do not consider excessive. The following 
score of woodcock was made in the covers during 
October, 1904, by a friend, my son and myself. 

October 1, 15 woodcock 



4, 22 




5, 20 




6, 12 




7, 28 




" 10, 15 


( Two hours ' shooting ) 


'' 11, 20 




" 12, 40 




" 13, 3 


' (One hour's shooting) 


" 14, 19 




" 15, 10 


(Half a day) 


" 17, 14 




'' 18, 26 




" 19, 9 


' (Two hours ' shooting ) 


" 20, 19 





We shot in fifteen days two hundred and sev- 
enty-two birds, but as we were out only five hours 
on October 10th, 13th and 19th, and but half a day 
October 15th, it was really a thirteen days' shoot 
—an average of about twenty cock a day. 

Owing to dry weather, the first of the shooting 
80 



The Fift y-Nine- and- a-Half- Inch Head 



for 1906 was very poor ; later we had a surfeit of 
rain, which lost us a number of days ' sport. 



Score for 1906 : 
October 1, 1 woodcock (Two hours' shootiag) 



6, 4 

8, 12 

9, 9 
12, 28 

15, 19 

16, 17 

17, 16 
20, 9 
22, 11 
24, 25 
26, 14 

30, 9 

31, 3 



(One and a half hours' shooting) 



(Two hours' shooting) 
(Three hours' shooting) 



(Two and a half hours' shooting) 
(Two hours' shooting) 



The autumn of 1906 moose were very numerous. 
We often saw fresh tracks on our way to the 
covers; only a short distance from the cabin my 
son shot a very large bull. The antlers spread 
fifty-nine and one half inches and were very sym- 
metrical. 

There were a good many woodcock in the covers 
in 1907, but the weather was most unfavorable for 
our sport. It was so stormy that we frequently 
shot in wet brush and often we were obliged to re- 
turn to the cabin, although the covers were full of 
birds. For several days we did not even go out. 
81 



Score for 1907 : 






September 


20, 9 woodcock 


(One and a half hours' shooting) 


" 


28, 4 


" 


(Two hours' shooting) 


(( 


30, 7 


a 


(One and a half hours' shooting) 


Octobei 


• 1, 10 


(I 


(One and a half hours' shooting) 


" 


7, 9 


" 


(Two hours' shooting) 


" 


8, 9 


" 


(Two hours' shooting) 


" 


9, 15 


'' 


(Two hours' shooting) 


" 


10, 12 


( ( 


(Three hours' shooting) 


" 


16, 11 


" 


(Two hours' shooting) 


" 


17, 18 


" 




li 


18, 16 


" 




" 


19, 8 


a 


(Three hours ' shooting) 


" 


21, 12 


ii 


(Two and a half hours' shooting) 


(( 


22, 29 


" 




(< 


23, 20 


" 




It 


24, 12 


ct 




" 


25, 7 


" 


(Two and a half hours' shooting) 


11 


27, 15 


it 




(( 


28, 4 


tc 


(Two hours' shooting) 



Moose were more numerous than in 1906. I shot 
a large bull near the camp. The next morning 
my friend also bagged a fair head. 

Many persons consider it cruel to kill game 
birds. Yet is there any other cruelty in shooting 
than that of maiming 1 Is not the instant killing 
a more merciful end than that of starvation or 
through the misery of old age? Man has discov- 
ered that game birds are nourishing food, and 
that setters and pointers exist for the purpose of 
82 



scenting them. If Nature has produced an animal 
especially for hunting game birds, it seems as 
though some Power has ordained that woodcock 
are to be killed; and as shooting, in my opinion, 
is the least cruel and the quickest way of ending a 
life, I try to find enjoyment in it, instead of culti- 
vating a romantic view. Shooting is a manly ex- 
ercise; it preserves our health; and when we 
refrain from needless destruction, I believe the 
mind becomes better and purer from our associa- 
tion with the game birds. Laws are enacted for 
their preservation, and if obeyed, there will be 
no danger of extermination. 

The game laws of New Brunswick and Nova 
Scotia are well enforced. The birds are not dis- 
turbed in summer, and with all looking after their 
interests, I believe it will be many years before the 
whistling of their wings will cease throughout the 
Province. 



83 




THE MIDDAY MEAL 

AR away in the wilds of New Bruns- 
wick lies a Garden of Eden. No 
breath of the Damascus rose per- 
fumes this enchanted place, nor do 
Persian women, escorted by royal minstrels, jour- 
ney along the banks of the stream which waters 
this fertile valley; but as the west winds sigh 
their delight among the spruce and cedar which 
partially encompass the vale, a cool and refresh- 
ing odor is wafted down the hills, giving health 
and strength to the many little beings hidden 
among the few alders and birches scattered 
about the plain. No plumes of the Cashmerian 
egret decorate the heads of the gallant knights, 
but feathers of light and dark brown color resem- 
bling soft velvet adorn their bodies. Nor do silken 
lanterns skilfully painted by Canton art, light the 
woodmaidens to their cooling bowers; for their 
night is made beautiful by the northern stars, and 
is illumined by the fireflies that sparkle in the 
84 



darkness. We have named this cover the Garden 
of Eden owing to its beautiful situation and the 
great number of birds it harbors. It is here, 
after shooting the surrounding country, I love 
to come for the midday meal, and reclining in 
the warmth of the sun, listen to the kettle as it 
sings its merry tunes suspended above the freshly- 
kindled fire. 

One of the greatest pleasures of the day is the 
fire and boiling the kettle for tea. The fragrant 
beverage seems to inspire one with a desire to 
protect the life of birds and animals. Many a 
happy hour, while sipping the warming draught, 
I have spent beside the brook in this pleasant spot, 
discoursing upon the beauties and wonders of 
Nature. 

The bubbling brook doth leap when I come by, 
Because my feet find measure with its call ; 

The birds know when the friend they love is nigh, 
For I am known to them both great and small. 

The flower that on the lonely hillside grows 

Expects me there when Spring its bloom has given ; 

And many a tree and bush my wanderings knows. 
And e'en the clouds and silent stars of heaven. 

I shall never forget the astonishment of the lad 

who used to carry my game-bag and kettle, when 

I tried to interest a friend in the knowledge of 

mythology and the customs of the ancient Egyp- 

85 



tians— subjects on which he was a bit shy. I was 
telling him how they used to worship the rising 
sun as a god, and called it Horus, the child-god; 
how they named the noontide sun Amen Ra, and 
the setting sun Osiris. The god of darkness they 
called Typhon, and represented him as a croco- 
dile ; and they believed that the ending of the day 
was caused by Typhon slaying Osiris, the setting 
sun. My friend, more interested no doubt in the 
number of birds he hoped to slay, began to show 
signs of weariness with the tale; but the lad, on 
the contrary, was a most eager listener. So, con- 
tinuing with the story, I told him the legend which, 
depicted on the temple walls some five thousand 
years before Christ, represents Horus, the rising 
sun, fighting and slaying Typhon to revenge the 
death of his father Osiris. When the recital was 
finished, much to the relief of my friend, the lad 
with an astonished expression looked into my face 
and said: ''Is that true, sir?" I replied that my 
knowledge of the veracity of the Egyptians five 
thousand years before Christ was limited; but 
if he wished to learn about the truth of my 
assertion I would be only too glad to send him a 
book upon the legends of antiquity. ' ' Oh my, but 
who is he, sir?" was the reply! 

Perhaps a discourse on mythology may be a bit 
profound at the noon siesta of a day spent in wood- 
86 



cock shooting ; but while sitting around the fire, if 
one cares to investigate his surroundings, much in- 
formation may be gained in natural history. There 
are the different trees to be named and studied. The 
flowering shrubs and ferns should also be made to 
disclose their hidden charm. Perhaps there will 
be a meadow rose standing near which has 
changed its pink summer flower into a bright 
scarlet fruit of autumn. A green dragon may 
show its head decorated with its orange-red ber- 
ries, and many other varieties of brilliant-colored 
fruits can be seen growing in this wooded garden, 
as spacious and beautiful as the Oriental Sha- 
lima. Even the brook running through the field 
may furnish interesting thoughts; and so much 
life does it contain, and so wondrous are the in- 
habitants that if you will stop a few moments to 
gaze into its depths you will marvel at its revela- 
tions. Instead of hurrying the midday meal, pro- 
long the hour by cultivating the thoughts I have 
suggested, and I am sure you will become so in- 
terested in the work that many an extra moment 
will be devoted to this pleasure, and each day you 
will find that the desire for making large bags will 
gradually diminish until you are content to roam 
the fields for their beauty alone. 

The magnifying glass is most useful in the ob- 
servation of Nature. Many are the strange things 
87 



it brings to our notice. In studying minute in- 
sect life it is indispensable. I always carry one 
with me when wandering about the fields. It is a 
joy to look through the small lens and see the mar- 
velous coloring Nature has given to the wild flow- 
ers, and with what skill she has formed the petals 
of the softest tints, and the slender pistils rising 
from the tiny corollas. Most delicate of creations 
are the wild flowers. 

Then wherefore, wherefore, were they made, 
All dyed with rainbow light; 
All fashioned with supremest grace, 
Upspringing day and night- 
Springing in valleys green and low, 
And on the mountains high. 
And in the silent wilderness 
Where no man passes by 1 



88 




THE HOMEWARD DRIVE I 

i 

?HAT a pleasure, after the day's fa- 
tigue, to see in the distance the impa- 
tiently waiting trap! The dogs are 
tenderly lifted into the vehicle, where 
they find the springy hay a delight to their tired ] 

bodies. Then comes the restful drive homeward in j 

the twilight. When we are comfortably seated, 
wrapped in our warm coverings, how soothing to 1 

be whirled over a good country road, inhaling the I 

sweet-smelling cedar as it perfumes the crisp, \ 

frosty night. 

! 
A dewy freshness fills the silent air ; 

No mist obscures, nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain 

Breaks the serene heaven. 

In full-orbed glory, yonder moon divine I 

Rolls through the dark-blue depths. ; 

Beneath her steady ray 

The desert-circle spreads ' 

Like the round ocean, girdled with the sky. 

How beautiful is night ! j 

89 i 



While we are being skilfully guided through the 
dense woods, dimly lighted by the pale moon and 
brilliant stars, our driver suddenly shoots out the 
stinging lash, and breaking into the opening we 
speed across the plain. 

During the drive in the midst of the tree shad- 
ows one usually becomes silent, and our thoughts 
are likely to turn toward some great sorrow or 
happiness we have experienced in life. I have no- 
ticed that just as soon as the dark, shadowy phan- 
toms begin to appear, instead of discoursing on 
the splendid merits of the dog or on some difficult 
shot finely executed, one's conversation gradually 
drifts to themes of a sadder and more romantic 
nature. Not only in New Brunswick, but away 
down in Florida and out in Northern Kansas— in 
fact, wherever I have shot— no matter how rough 
the characters who were with me may have ap- 
peared, moonlight seemed to have the same effect 
upon all, for it either aroused some forgotten sor- 
row or intensified the charm of a happy romance. 
The fair "maiden whom mortals call the moon" 
must have some hypnotic spell which she delights 
to cast upon us, her subjects, as we turn in homage 
toward her. How many a moonlight night in the 
Northwest have I driven across the plains and 
along the banks of the silent flowing Republican, 
listening to the romantic conversation of my 
90 



Scotch driver, Sandy, and to the pathetic songs 
which he always used to sing when under the in- 
fluence of the fair goddess! One bright, clear 
night, when we were alone on the prairie, I asked 
him why at the ending of his songs he remained 
silent so long. His answer was the following 
stanzas : 

Ye banks and braes and streams around 

The castle o ' Montgomery ; 
Green be your woods, and fair your flowers ; 

Your waters never drumlie ! 
There simmer first unfauld her robes, 

And there the langest tarry ; 
For there I took the last fareweel 

' my sweet Highland Mary. 

How sweetly bloom 'd the gay green birk ; 

How rich the hawthorn's blossom. 
As underneath their fragrant shade 

I clasp 'd her to my bosom ! 
The golden hours on angel wings 

Flew 'er me and my dearie ; 
For dear to me as light and life 

Was my sweet Highland Mary, 

0, pale, pale now those rosy lips 

I aft hae kiss 'd sae fondly ; 
And closed for aye the sparkling glance 

That dwelt on me sae kindly ; 
And mouldering now in silent dust 

The heart that lo'ed me dearly. 
But still within my bosom 's core 

Shall live my Highland Mary! 

91 



I felt deeply touched at the emotion of this 
strange character, and did my best to divert his 
thoughts. I suggested that when he was out on the 
plains he must try not to be melancholy; and in- 
stead of allowing the fair face in the moon to 
make him dwell upon his sad story, he should 
rather look upon the enchantress as a means of 
overcoming his sorrow. If he would study the 
legends of the constellations as well as of the pale 
satellite, he would hear other tales than those 
about fair women. He would learn that each bril- 
liant spot, a mere flickering light in the sky, was 
a joyous world sending forth brightness to guide 
him on his lonely drives; and he would also dis- 
cover that the horses he drives, the hares darting 
across the trail, and even the bears roaming the 
distant mountains, are all by ancient story identi- 
fied with the constellations which he sees shining 
above. 

Sandy seemed pleased at our conversation, and 
asked me if I knew any of the legends, and would 
I tell him one. I related a Hindoo story as I re- 
membered seeing it in one of Mr. Jermain G. Por- 
ter's books; how Buddha, in an early stage of his 
existence, was a hare traveling in company with 
an ape and a fox. The god Indra, disguised as a 
beggar, asked them for food, and the three went 
out to seek it. The hare alone returned from his 
92 



quest unsuccessful, and not wishing to seem lack- 
ing in hospitality, ordered a fire to be built and 
cast himself into it to roast for his guest's supper. 
In reward for this heroic devotion to duty, the god 
placed him in the moon. When I had finished the 
legend he appeared less pensive, and lighting his 
pipe asked me to tell him about the stars. So I 
called his attention to the fierce Aquila with his 
chief Altair, ever ready to pounce upon some fair 
youth whom Jupiter might desire for his cup- 
bearer; and as we drove along I pointed out the 
North Star in the tail of the Little Bear, sending 
forth its light from an immeasurable distance— a 
safe beacon to guide us home. Then I told how 
Moore, in his Lalla Kookh, poetically compared 
Nourmahal, the flower of the Harem, to this bril- 
liant body : 

Thou loveliest, dearest of them all ; 
The one whose smile shone out alone 
Amidst a world; the only one 
Whose light among so many lights 
Was like that star on starry nights. 

These few lines must have appealed to his ro- 
mantic nature more strongly than the legend of 
Buddha, for after a short silence he asked me to 
tell him more about the sad face in the moon. 
Wishing to please him, I quoted from the same 
93 



book of legends about the beautiful Syrian moon- 
goddess whom the Greeks have called Selene, and 
how the Romans saw in her Diana ; and the Peru- 
vian Incas' story of a beautiful maiden who long 
ago fell in love with the moon and cast herself into 
his arms ; while some of the Pacific Islanders made 
the moon a rough wooer who snatched a fair bride 
from the earth. I also told him how Ben Jonson 
in the following lines addresses the fair goddess : 

Queen and huntress, chaste and fair, 

Now the sun is laid to sleep, 
Seated in thy silver chair, 

State in wonted manner keep. 

and how Dan Homer speaks of her as the silver- 
footed queen ; while Tennyson tells us that 

All night through archways of bridged pearl 
And portals of pure silver walks the moon. 

By the time we had finished discoursing upon 
the mysteries of the heavens, bright lights shone 
in the village, and presently pulling up at the 
dear old tavern, man and dog alighted to refresh 
their bodies for a happy outing on the morrow, 
while our romantic driver of the plains departed 
to taste no doubt the cup of forgetfulness. 

Take hence the bowl; though beaming 
Brightly as bowl e'er shone, 

94 



Oh, it but sets me dreaming 
Of happy days now gone. 

There in its clear reflections, 
As in a wizard 's glass. 

Lost hopes and dead affections 
Like shades before me pass. 

Each cup I drain brings hither 

Some scene of bliss gone by: 
Bright hopes— too bright to wither ; 

Warm hearts— too warm to die. 
Till, as the dream comes o'er me 

Of those long-vanished years, 
Alas ! the wine before me 

Seems turning all to tears. 



95 




THE ENGLISH BIRD 

LTHOUGH English sportsmen prize 
their woodcock as highly as we do our 
American bird, I do not think they 
are so keen for the sport. Probably 
the scarcity of birds is one reason ; and then their 
pursuit might lead to the disarrangement of well 
organized pheasant and grouse drives, which are 
so essential to the sportsmen. I have never shot 
woodcock in Europe, so I will not attempt to des- 
cribe their habits. I am familiar with the bird 
only as I have seen it resting peacefully in some 
attractive stall in Bond Street, London ; and there, 
while sauntering through that interesting thor- 
oughfare, I have often gazed upon him sadly. Al- 
though a much larger bird than the native of 
America, its plumage is less brilliant. While the 
feathers of the back are similar in their markings, 
one misses the dark, rich tones. The breast, in- 
stead of possessing those graduating tints of red- 
dish brown peculiar to our bird, is dusty, and 
96 



looks more like the breast-feathers of an English 
partridge. Nor do I consider them as delicate in 
flavor as ours. The English woodcock will some- 
times weigh a pound; one that was served me at 
Claridge's restaurant certainly looked as though 
it would weigh quite that amount. The birds 
are not so plentiful as formerly; only a few are 
shot as they occasionally drop into some cover. 
In Scotland, after the grouse drives are over, I be- 
lieve one can still have fair sport. Many birds 
during the eighties, were shot in Ireland. As late 
as 1899 on some estates it was possible for five or 
six guns to bag three and four hundred cock in a 
week's shooting, and I am told that even now on 
the western coast there are good flights. 

Not only in the British Isles were the birds 
numerous, but they scattered over nearly all of 
Europe in their annual Southern migration from 
Northern Russia and Scandinavia. Northern 
Africa, which seemed to be the limit of their jour- 
ney, used to give splendid shooting. In these days 
I hear large bags are frequently made in the cov- 
ers near Rome; and in Greece especially one can 
still have fine sport with the wandering bird. 
How they must love this Southern land to ignore 
the dangers of such an extended flight ! Many of 
the frail forms, with visions of sunny homes, 
have fought their way along storm-swept coasts 
97 



only to perish far out at sea ; and most of the birds 
which were fortunate enough to escape the gales 
were trapped in nets while resting for a few days 
on some good feeding-ground. In this way hun- 
dreds of woodcock were caught annually and sold 
to hotels and restaurants along the route of their 
migration; so in Europe as well as in America 
woodcock have had their enemies. 

Netting used to be carried on extensively in the 
British Isles, but I do not believe it is practised at 
present. 

The English poets also had a fondness for 
woodcock. They have occasionally mentioned the 
birds with affection ; and bards of late years have 
frequently sung their praises. Shakspere refers 
to the bird as being rather a simpleton : 

Oh, this woodcock, what an ass it is ! 

Ben Jonson's lines, 

Mistress, this is only spite; 
For you would not yesternight 
Kiss him in the eockshut^ light. 

allude to the time of night the woodcock love. 
Sir Walter Scott was a devotee of cock shooting, 

* About twilight ; the time when nets are set to trap woodcock. 



but in his days in Scotland birds were destroyed 
wholesale for market. 

I should love to follow more closely the woodcock 
of the North in its visits to the British Isles, and in 
its wanderings about the Continent; but English 
sportsmen and eminent ornithologists have long 
ago told pleasant and entertaining tales of the 
bird beyond the sea. 



99 




SEEVING THE BIRD 



'HERE are various ways of cooking 
woodcock, but when one departs from 
the simplicity of the roast the flavor 
of the bird is less pleasing. Beware 
also of the thin slices of bacon which so many chefs 
delight to use as shrouds for the unfortunate birds 
they serve upon toast spread with that unappetiz- 
ing mixture, trail and liver. Woodcock, after being 
shot, should hang five or six days in a cool place. 
This softens the muscles of the thighs, and makes 
the flesh more tender. If they are to be kept any 
longer, it is better to draw them, for the trail is 
apt to spoil the flesh. I never could find any pleas- 
ure in eating the trail, and in restaurants espec- 
ially where any concoction may be served. To 
have the birds in best condition, they should be 
plucked and drawn just before the cooking ; but do 
not rinse or lay them upon ice, for this hurts their 
flavor. Be careful not to sever the heads, for you 
must know that the brains are delicate, and 
sweeter than those of the nightingales served at 
100 



royal feasts— a fact which escaped Lucullus in his 
sumptuous banquets. When you have sprinkled a 
bit of salt and pepper upon the birds, place them 
in an oven until they are cooked through; not 
"bien cuit," but until the flesh has lost all its 
purple color and changed to a more tempting red. 
They should now be turned before hot coals until 
the skin is crisp brown. If they are carefully at- 
tended, you will have a morsel acceptable even 
to the palate of the renowned Gouffe. Should one 
be fortunate enough to possess an old-fashioned 
meat- jack, then the birds will be done to perfec- 
tion; for it turns regularly before the fire, and 
roasts them in the proper way. They must be 
served hot; but I have frequently been served 
when their bodies had scarcely felt any heat, and 
their flesh, saturated with fat juices from the bo- 
vine family, was a cold, bluish purple. Yet they 
were pronounced delicious by friends and seemed 
to be enjoyed. 

They should be eaten quite by themselves; for 
they are rich, and, like old wines, to be appreciated 
should be indulged in sparingly. 

My favorite dinner, when woodcock are served, 
consists of a few oysters, followed by a light, clear 
soup ; then delicate small shells holding fresh crab 
meat, and sweet cream, heated to a savory tint, 
will not detract from our feast of the scolopacidae. 
101 



As soon as the crustaceans are consumed, let the 
woodcock be announced; and woe unto him who 
allows the lordly comer to grow cool. No trail- 
crowned pedestal of toast, saturated with un- 
savory juices, supports this king of the covers. 
Only a few cresses decorate the salver upon 
which he reposes, and we quaff a draught of 
Bordeaux to his memory. Should one desire to 
extend this simple repast, a few mushrooms, 
stewed in cream, are not amiss ; but the mushrooms 
must be fresh, and should simmer from early 
dawn in salted water until half an hour before 
serving. Add then the sweet cream and pepper. 
Place over a hot fire for a few minutes and stir 
briskly. Then, with a dash of Madeira or sherry, 
even a Brillat-Savarin would not disapprove. 

If one is willing to decorate the tender becasse 
with the artistic skill of French chefs, butter a 
chafing-dish and in it place the fillets and legs of 
two woodcock. Cook until done. Then have 
ready the following dressing to pour over them, 
and serve hot: 

To a small quantity of thin brown gravy add a 
glass of Madeira or sherry, some salt, pepper, a 
pinch of cayenne, the juice of half an orange, and 
a bit of currant jelly. Mix well and heat. 

I have found the above recipe especially pleas- 
ing at a late supper after the play. 
102 



The Turkey Cover 



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When woodcock are dressed for broiling, a good 
deal of the juice is lost, so I do not recommend this 
way of serving the bird. A friend of mine, a thor- 
ough gourmet, who prides himself on his culinary 
skill, and who makes yearly pilgrimages to Mary- 
land during the season of ortolans, terrapin and 
canvasback, prefers the dainty woodcock with its 
body spread out, and resembling the Austrian 
eagle on the caparisons of royal steeds. 

The salmi, saute and chaud-froid may be ap- 
preciated, and various elaborate sauces have been 
concocted by French chefs to make more tempting 
the rich juicy flesh of the woodcock ; but the simple 
roast, in my opinion, is the only way to serve the 
noble bird. 



103 



MY AUTUMN SHOOTING OF 1905 



Autumn, I love thy bower, 
With faded garlands drest; 
How sweet alone to linger there, 
When tempests ride the midnight air, 
To snatch from mirth a fleeting hour. 
The Sabbath of the breast. 

October 4th.— Our party, consisting of Mrs. 
Davis and myself, with two blue Belton setters 
and a Samoyede called Nansen II, arrived safely 
at twelve o'clock to-day in St. John. We drove 
to the Hotel Royal and were given a comfor- 
table apartment, where Mrs. Davis intends to stay 
while I am shooting in the hills. 

Nansen II is a white Russian sledge dog, and I 
am told is the grandson of the Samoyede which ac- 
companied Nansen in his Arctic explorations. I 
have named him ^'Le Loup Blanc." 

October 5th.— This morning my friend and I, 
with four dogs, boarded the express for Ennis- 
104 



The Blue Beltons 

CHRIS AND TED 



killen, a primitive little station on the line of the 
Canadian Pacific Railroad, and not far distant 
from St. John. We found onr trap ready to take 
us to a small white building standing in a corner 
of the field which lies an interesting spot among 
some distant hills. A wild brook flows at the foot 
of the field, and upon the rich, dark loam that 
lines its banks, woodcock are frequently served 
their evening banquet. 

How pleasant thy banks and green valleys below, 
Where wild in the woodlands the primroses blow. 

On the opposite side of this moist vale, white 
and Norwegian pines, and pale green tamaracks, 
mingling with spruce and cedar, breathe their per- 
fume upon the house so peacefully situated. 

At twilight, during the bright October moon, 
sweet whistling notes are heard; beautiful forms 
rise from nearby covers and dart quickly through 
the air, casting shadows across the pale building- 
resting in the shade of the alders. Deer often 
leap the broken rails at the commencement of the 
woods, and steal the turnip-tops that wither in 
the sun. Sometimes a fearless moose, seeking 
his companion, strays across the lot. The prickly 
porcupine, in his nocturnal excursions, also has a 
fondness for the place; and other animals, when 
the moon is bright, love to wander about my home 
105 



on the hillside. Here, during the October days, 
roaming through field and cover, I hear the twi- 
light music which charms. Again I come to you, 
dear Cabin, and with joy I greet you ! Both pleas- 
ure and sorrow have I experienced since last we 
met; but with your ever-cheerful welcome, and 
your silence broken by the sound of crackling logs, 
all sad memories shall drift gently away, as the 
pale smoke floating toward the distant horizon. No 
sweet jessamine trails over your weather-stained 
walls, nor do fragrant flowers which sip the 
early dew lend their radiant colors; but I praise 
your unveiled beauty as the happy Zingians 
praised the Soheil, for you have the power of cast- 
ing spells sweeter than those of the great Mantra 
or the gold jewels of Jinnie. So to you, dear 
Cabin, I return. 

It is pleasant to be back again amid scenes of 
happiness, and to gaze upon the forest, and far- 
away mountains, looming up a dull gray against 
the horizon; where soft winds breathe a soothing 
influence. 

To-day has been clear, but a bit too warm for 
comfortable shooting. Through some mistake my 
shells were left at the station. My friend very 
kindly offered me his twenty-eight bore. We shot 
the covers near the cabin, and found only a few 
cock. The weather has been very dry, so I sup- 
106 



Le Loup Blanc 



pose most of the birds are remaining in the woods 
where there is some moisture. Unless there are 
heavy rains to drive them to the covers, I am 
afraid we shall not have good shooting this fall. 

The alders and birches still hold their trembling 
leaves, making it difficult to see the birds when 
they rise. We flushed eleven cock. Grouse were 
very scarce ; we saw only three, and these we shot. 

I am told the heavy snows of last winter killed 
nearly all the birds. Their only means of safety, 
at night when fierce snow-storms sweep the 
Province, is to dive from trees into the treacher- 
ous refuge. They will burrow into the snow until 
they are well covered, and in this position rest 
comfortably until morning. Then, gradually 
working their way out, with a whirr they hie to 
their happy feeding-grounds. Sometimes, when 
the snowfall is very severe, they are unable to ex- 
tricate themselves so quickly. A light rain comes ; 
a cruel crust forms, and many little bodies im- 
prisoned beneath have a sad ending. It seems 
strange that these softly-falling snowflakes which 
spread their white mantle over the land, giving 
beauty and life to the forest, can destroy so many 
of these strong, powerful birds. 

Score, 4 cock ; 3 grouse. 

October 6th.— The shells arrived last night. To- 
107 



day I shot my twenty bore. We tried the best 
covers, and found them completely dry. Our dogs 
worked splendidly, but the alders and birches 
were so dense with foliage that it was rather diffi- 
cult to execute well. Flushed twelve cock. 
Score, 6 cock ; 1 grouse. 

October 7th.— Tried different grounds, hoping 
to find wet land. Shot some very thick covers and 
started a number of birds ; but it was utterly im- 
possible to do good work; only an occasional 
glimpse of the cock, and they were away. We had 
luncheon at the old barn by the brook. Hunted 
Ladysmith in the afternoon; flushed eighteen 
birds. It was very trying to hear the whistling 
wings, and not be able to see the cock. Even the 
dogs were annoyed when the birds flushed and the 
guns were silent. Dan, our expert, begins to show 
displeasure ; for he is less obedient, and hunts far- 
ther away. We need frost and rain badly for our 
sport. I have decided to go to-night to my covers 
at Petitcodiac and return here later. 

Yesterday afternoon a moose quite surprised us 
in one of the covers. We left for St. John at 10 
P.M. It was glorious driving down Enniskillen 
Hill, with the moon shining upon the dark forest, 
and every star clear and bright in the frosty sky. 
For a few moments our party were silent as we 
108 



Dan 



gazed at the infinite space above. Even the dogs 
seemed awed by the grandeur of the night. 
Score, 6 cock. 

October Sth.—Sundaj. St. John. 

October P^/i.— Petitcodiac. The days continue 
clear and cool. No rain has greeted us. Left St. 
John at eleven o'clock this morning and arrived at 
Petitcodiac about half-past two. Mrs. Davis 
and maid are with me ; Loup is also of the party, 
quartered at the comfortable hotel, and I sadly 
fear he is an unwelcome visitor to the fowls wan- 
dering through the village. Went shooting late; 
found the covers quite as thick with foliage as at 
Enniskillen. Hunted Dan and the puppy. Both 
dogs were a bit off, owing, no doubt to a day's 
frolic with Loup. Flushed ten birds, which was 
very satisfactory for the time we were out. 
Score, 6 cock. 

October 1^^/^.— Weather delightful; cool and 
clear. Went out at eight o 'clock ; returned at six ; 
shot some new covers which I have leased ; flushed 
twenty-five birds, mostly in thick places; lunched 
by our favorite brook, and rested a long time 
around the fire, telling stories of the past to our 
driver and shell-bearer. Loup, in his walks with 
109 



Mrs. Davis, has discovered where the dainty fowl 
reside. I am afraid there will be trouble soon. 
Score, 18 cock; 1 grouse. 

October 11th.— Clear ; shot different covers in- 
cluding the Garden of Eden, which was withering 
like the rest ; only four of the inhabitants remained. 
A few scentless flowers endeavored to welcome our 
return as they gently nodded in the breeze. Even 
the brook, usually so joyous, had lost its life dur- 
ing the parching drouth. The whole Garden was a 
disappointment, so we wandered quietly away. 
Score, 9 cock. 

October 12th.— We walked four miles to some 
new ground this morning, but did not find any 
birds. It was owing, probably, to the dry wea- 
ther. In the afternoon hunted some good covers, 
but the cock were very scarce. We flushed only 
seven. While ascending a hill, four deer crossed 
the road about thirty yards in front of the trap. 
They stopped for a moment to look at us, then dis- 
appeared quickly into the forest. 
Score, 3 cock. 

October 13th.— Weather cloudy; wind east. 
Hunted Dan and the young dog together. They 
both worked well. The young dog gave me three 
110 



Dan Pointing 



points in rather difficult covers. I was surprised 
to see how proudly and well he retrieved. Flushed 
thirteen birds. 

Score, 3 cock ; 1 grouse. 

October 14th.— Weather cloudy; indications of 
rain. Hunted covers which I have leased ; found 
thirty-five birds. They were very wild, getting 
up some distance ahead of the dogs. The natives 
while hunting grouse must have disturbed them 
considerably. The foliage was so thick a number 
of birds got away without even giving us a shot. 
Score, 16 cock. 

October 15th.— Sunday. It is delightful to be 
here to-day amid the cherished hills. A faint 
odor of the forest perfumes the air, and the sky, 
a vast expanse of pale blue, is calm in all its gran- 
deur. No clouds float by to cast their shadows, 
but bright sunlight shines upon our village. Even 
the dogs are glad at the coming of the Sabbath, 
and rest contentedly beside me. All is quiet, save 
the ringing of the bell on the little white church 
which stands beside a road stretching toward 
the forest. As I listen to the joyous welcome, the 
following verses seem to appropriately describe 
my surroundings : 

111 



Witli silent awe I hail the sacred morn, 
That slowly wakes while all the fields are still ! 
A soothing calm on every breeze is borne ; 
A graver murmur gurgles from the rill ; 
And echo answers softer from the hill; 
And sweeter sings the linnet from the thorn ; 
The skylark warbles in a tone less shrill. 

Hail, light serene ! Hail, sacred Sabbath morn ! 
The rooks float silent by in airy drove; 
The sun a placid yellow lustre throws ; 
The gales that lately sighed along the grove 
Have hushed their downy wings in dead repose ; 
The hovering rack of clouds forgets to move: 
So smiled the day when the first morn arose ! 

October 16th.— Cold and clear. The leaves are 
beginning to fall. As we were passing one of the 
covers, a deer walked into the opening. My 
friend, only too eager to slay the timid animal, 
hastily jumped from the trap and tried to get a 
shot ; but I was delighted to see its graceful form 
scale the fence at the farther end of the field. I 
dislike to have these animals shot, for when 
wounded they often utter a pathetic bleat, and to 
the sympathetic it is not pleasant. 
Score, 9 cock. 

October 17th.— Weather still clear and cool. 
We were off bright and early this morning for 
new covers. Left our trap at the old sawmill and 
112 



A Cherished Hill 



walked two miles inland. We found only three 
birds. The covers were delightfully situated and 
easy to shoot. They must be splendid grounds in a 
wet season. We saw two porcupines on our way 
and a dead fox in a spring trap. From appear- 
ances, the fox must have been hanging three or 
four days. As we were returning, my foot caught 
in a trap, and still later my dog's right hind leg 
was seized by another of these deadly inventions. 
Fortunately I was close at hand, and he was soon 
released. In the afternoon we hunted ground 
which we had previously shot. Flushed fifteen birds. 
While driving homeward, we saw many forest 
fires. Some were quite near and others, far away 
behind the hills, were reflected in the heavens. 
These fires endanger many of the covers. 
Score, 10 cock. 

October 18th.— It has been clear and blustery. 
This morning my friend went to arrange about 
some leases. I hunted the young dog alone. He 
found and pointed three birds. Two of these 
I shot. Ted again distinguished himself, for 
he retrieved perfectly. Returned early to the ho- 
tel and had luncheon with Mrs. Davis. In the af- 
ternoon we took the old dog Chris, and drove to a 
splendid cover which I have leased. Mrs. Davis 
waited outside in the trap while I wandered among 
113 



the birches. I flushed five cock and shot four. 
Chris trailed these birds a long distance. Our 
drive was delightful, and through a beautiful 
country. Hills and dales were dotted with 
homes of thrifty Canadians, making an interesting 
picture. Occasionally we passed a deserted farm, 
and its condition told a tale of sadness. We noticed 
that the alders and birches were fast losing their 
summer costume, and fallen oak leaves had nearly 
crimsoned the ground. Tamaracks still showed 
their pale green color in the lowering sun— a 
delightful contrast to the dark firs and spruce. 
All Nature seemed to be preparing and gowning 
itself for the cold of winter. 

Loup discovered other dainty fowl to-day, strut- 
ting proudly through the village, and quickly 
seized a victim. More sport for the Missus! 
My friend returned with six birds, having flushed 
nine. 

To-night the surrounding country is illuminated 
by the forest fires, and I fear that the cherished 
Cheese Factory on the outskirts of the village is 
doomed. All the natives have turned out to lend 
their aid in extinguishing the blaze. It is hoped 
the Canadian Eelish will be preserved. 
Score, 12 cock. 

October 19th.— The needed rain came last night, 
114 



but not in sufficient amount to do any good. It 
has been cloudy and warm all the morning. Went 
shooting at three o'clock; found the ground still 
quite dry. Flushed four birds. Leased a number 
of new covers, which increases the shooting around 
Petitcodiac. On our return we found Loup drag- 
ging a cow's tail through the village. Whether 
he severed this useful member from any of the 
native animals remains a mystery; but so far no 
claimant has appeared. Am leaving for St. John 
in the morning. I hope to return to the cabin 

Monday. 

Score, 3 cock. 

October ^^^/i.— Arrived in St. John at half -past 
six. Raining slightly. 

October 21st.— St. John. Weather cloudy. My 
setter, Chris, has taken a severe cold— I presume 
while on the train yesterday. A veterinary sur- 
geon came this morning and prescribed rest and 
whisky. 

October 23nd.—St John. Sunday. Clear and 
cold. Mrs. Davis attended Trinity Church. I went 
to see Chris and found him greatly improved. 
The poor old dog licked my hand and begged so 
hard to go out. I hope he will not cultivate a 
desire for the flowing bowl, for yesterday and to- 
115 



day I gave him large doses of the prescribed 
whisky, and he enjoyed it immensely. If he still 
improves, we shall go to Enniskillen to-morrow. 
While we were out for a stroll this afternoon, 
Loup attempted to annihilate a pet cat ; but fortu- 
nately it sought refuge in a tree, and my dog 
escaped the vengeance of an elderly spinster who 
was shouting frantically in a doorway. 

October 23rd.— Chris seemed much better this 
morning, so we again started for Enniskillen, 
where we arrived without mishap. Made some 
photographs before shooting. After luncheon 
hunted the McGillian and Ladysmith covers. 
Flushed six birds. They were very wild, and 
seemed quite willing to show us new tricks; fre- 
quently they ran thirty or forty yards ahead of 
the dogs before flushing. I believe it is owing to 
the dry weather and the emaciated condition of the 
birds; for when fat, unless disturbed, they very 
seldom do this. Chris, however, seemed equal to 
the occasion ; he trailed them slowly, and gave me 
points on all. 

While driving homeward we saw the sun go 
down behind the Enniskillen hills, and wondrous 
indeed were the colors cast upon the somber clouds 
floating lazily in the sky. Tints of the softest 
pink mingled with the most delicate lavender; 
116 



dark shaded crimson, streaked clouds of silvery 
whiteness; huge phantoms mounted on steeds of 
gray fought across rivers of gold ; the whole hor- 
izon seemed ablaze with unknown splendor, and 
even to the zenith the heavens shone with a light 
of glory. We were dazed by such magnificence, 
and for a few moments gazed in rapture upon the 
scene. Soon a dark form crept stealthily over the 
land and slowly stretching out its arms enveloped 
the earth in darkness, while the sublime picture be- 
fore us vanished into space. 

Score, 5 cock. 

October 24th.— Cold and clear. We made an 
early start this morning in order to shoot the Neri- 
pise covers. I have leased all of this ground. 
Flushed sixteen birds ; they were very wild. While 
lazily ascending the forest hill, a hen grouse was 
discovered strutting proudly along the road. Vis- 
ions of a dainty dish suddenly awoke the lethargy 
which had settled upon our tired party. My 
friend, always ready for the chase, was chosen 
to procure for us the wily bird. Stealthily he 
alighted from the trap, and with panther-like tread 
commenced to stalk the tempting game. But Mis- 
tress Grouse evidently scented danger, for with a 
toss of her head she quickly darted across the road 
and disappeared in the forest. My friend, as eager 
117 



as huntsmen for the fleeing fox, rushed after the 
bird. In hot pursuit I heard him tearing through 
the brush, and breathlessly awaited the report of 
the twenty-eight ; but the whirring of wings was the 
only music that greeted our anxious ears. Pres- 
ently my crestfallen friend, flushed with excite- 
ment, emerged from the woods. As he came to- 
ward the trap, Robert Burns ' song, ' ' The Heather 
was Blooming," echoed throughout the hills; so 
we knew that others had sometimes found it diffi- 
cult to steal on a bonnie moor-hen. 

The heather was blooming, the meadows were mawn; 
Our lads gaed a-hunting ae day at the dawn, 
'er moors and o 'er mosses and mony a glen ; 
At length they discover 'd a bonnie moor-hen. 

Sweet brushing the dew from the brown heather bells, 
Her color betray 'd her on yon mossy fells ; 
Her plumage outlustered the pride o ' the spring, 
And ! as she wantoned gay on the wing. 

They hunted the valley, they hunted the hill, 
The best of our lads wi ' the best o ' their skiU ; 
But still as the fairest she sat in their sight, 
Then, whirr ! she was over, a mile at a flight. 

I red you beware at the hunting, young man ; 
I red you beware at the hunting, young men ; 
Tak some on the wing, and some as they spring, 
But cannily steal on a bonnie moor-hea 

Score, 10 cock. 
118 



The Forest Road 



■"^v-'^ 




October 25th.— Fine and very cool. Hunted 
Chris alone. Shot seventeen birds before luncheon 
in the cabin cover ; the faithful dog gave me eigh- 
teen points. In the afternoon hunted Dan and the 
puppy on other ground. Shot five birds. During 
the day we flushed twenty-five cock. We had grand 
sport, and have decided that twenty cock in one 
day are sufficient. Hereafter twenty will be our 
limit. The covers are now clearer, so the shooting 
is less difficult. A light rain last night. 
Score, 22 cock. 

October 26th.— Cleav and cold; wind west. 
Hunted some new covers situated on two adjacent 
hills and in a most fascinating country. A ravine 
thirty feet deep separates the hills, and to retrieve 
from its depth as the eager Dan did was a merito- 
rious feat. On this ground we flushed twelve 
birds. Lunched beside the frozen brook. In the 
afternoon hunted Dan and Chris. While Chris 
was pointing under a fence, two birds flushed. I 
missed the cock I shot at, but the other flew into the 
line of pellets, and to my surprise dropped dead. 

Mr. Shaw writes that Colonel Sands killed two 
woodcock with one shot in England, November 4, 
1835, and probably there are not half a dozen such 
cases known. He also relates that Sir Francis 
Chantrey, the sculptor, accomplisheid a similar 
119 



feat in 1830, and a number of interesting verses 
have been written about tlie event. I think those 
by Spencer Stanhope are most appropriate : 

Two woodcock fell at his one shot, 
The joyous Chantrey smiled to see ; 
Then, pitying their untimely lot. 
He gave them immortality. 

I believe the place where the birds were killed is 
now known as Chantrey Hills. 

It was disappointing not to have killed my two 
birds with one shot; for I might have become 
famous by accomplishing that which so few sports- 
men have done. 

During these happy days, Loup is amusing him- 
self about the cabin. He tries hard to lead the 
young dog astray, and gazes longingly at the fowl, 
but as yet has not done battle. All the dogs sleep 
in front of the big fireplace. Chris has assumed 
command of the party, and it is amusing to see 
him when he feels his superiority. He will not eat 
unless from my hand ; but he is a grand cock-dog, 
perfectly broken, and loves me, so I humor him. 
Score, 9 cock. 

October 57^/i.— Another cold, clear day. Went 

out early. Hunted new covers. Birds were very 

scarce. Found only three in the cabin cover. The 

young dog was a bit unsteady, and flushed the cock 

120 



Homeward Bound 



before he scented them. A little punishment was 
given. I dislike to do this, for after being scolded 
he always comes and licks my hand in sadness. 
Had luncheon at the cabin. In the afternoon we 
drove to Ladysmith. It was quite deserted, and 
I was doomed to disappointment, for I had 
wagered that five or six of the garrison would 
surely appear and oppose our advance. 

We frequently wager small amounts on the day's 
shoot. It is amusing, and there is a certain fas- 
cination about winning a wager in the field. I have 
often in my rambles heard of curious bets, but the 
one a friend told me Lord Lovatt successfully 
made some years ago is by far the most interest- 
ing. He wagered he could kill a salmon with a 
horsehair, and a trout with a cobweb. A hair 
from a horse's tail was selected and used as a 
leader in killing the salmon, and a twisted cobweb 
for the trout. I presume that neither the salmon 
or trout were very large. 

On my way home, we stopped at a small cover 
and flushed one cock. As we did not find 
many birds, I believe they are fast leaving for 
the South, so I shall soon take my departure. Al- 
though the cock have not been so numerous as last 
year, the month has been delightful, and I am con- 
tent. 

Score, 1 cock. 

121 



October 5<S^/i.— Arrived in St. John last night. 
The town was greatly excited over the visit of 
Prince Henry of Battenberg. Mrs. Davis and I 
walked to the docks about seven o'clock and saw 
one of His Majesty's squadron lying at anchor. 
It was really a most imposing picture, for the 
bright moon shone beautifully above, while small 
electric lights peeped out from the dark hull of the 
ship and streaked the swift waters with brilliancy. 

October 29th. — ^t John. Sunday. Again clear 
and cold. In the afternoon with a friend I watched 
the procession going to Trinity to unveil a tablet 
placed in the Church in memory of the New Bruns- 
wick men killed in Africa during the Boer War. 
The young Highlanders were very picturesque in 
their kilts and white jackets. 

October 30th.— Our glorious weather continues. 
About eleven o'clock this morning we drove to a 
cover at Calvert's Lake, six miles from St. John. 
Here we flushed four birds; but they were cer- 
tainly wild. Only one of them, however, ignored 
our skill. We ate luncheon in a charming place 
beside a rapid brook; made some photographs, 
and returned to the hotel at five o 'clock. 
Score, 1 cock. 

122 



October 31st.— This afternoon accompanied by 
Loup we drove on the Black River Road. We 
had a delightful view of the Bay of Fundy, which 
sends its treacherous tides far inland. Loup 
caused great excitement chasing the sheep and 
cattle feeding on the hillside. We passed the 
Sportsman's Home, situated on a knoll, and over- 
looking the bright waters of the bay. Here dwell 
enfeebled old men ; some of them, no doubt, gazing 
toward the distant covers with recollections of a 
joyous past. 

To-night there are indications of a storm, but if 
to-morrow be fair, I shall visit the cabin for the 
last time this autumn. 

November 1st.— A light veil of snow has fallen 
during the night, changing the cheerful covers of 
yesterday and the brown autumnal fields into a 
scene of almost arctic solemnity. The alders, only 
a short time ago joyous in the bright sunlight, 
now under the threatening clouds bend their whit- 
ened heads in grief. The birches on the hillside, 
where the birds a few hours since in the twilight, 
were sending forth their sweet music, are bowed 
with sorrow; and through the spruce and cedar 
comes the cold breath of the North, a warning of 
approaching winter. 

123 



Those fading leaves, 
That with their rich variety of hues 
Make yonder forest in the slanting sun 
So beautiful, in you awake the thought 
Of Winter. 

So to-day, dear Cabin, we part. May the blind- 
ing sleet and snow, as it sweeps across the plain, 
work you no harm these long, weary months ; and 
when the next October moon is high in the heavens, 
I hope I shall again see the fair lady's light shin- 
ing upon you in your peacefulness. 

Among the beautiful pictures 
That hang on memory's wall. 
Is one of a dim old forest 
That seemeth best of all. 



124 



;/lAY 18 1908 



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